The Maid of the Moor
by BathshebaRocks
Summary: A gripping historical romp featuring handsome rogue Eric and feisty Suki.  Romance, tragedy and, yes of course, bodice ripping, in C18th England. From Dartmoor to Barbados can our lovers find true happiness or will evil William C keep them apart.  Pt 1
1. Chapter 1

**The Maid of the Moor**

_**Summary: Susanna Stackhouse's simple, well ordered life is turned upside down by a chance encounter with a notorious rogue. Bodice ripping, romance and tragedy in this historical fiction set on the wilds of Dartmoor and the high seas!**_

_**Although this is an all-human story, the main characters are based on the creations of Charlaine Harris for the Southern Vampire Mysteries, and are of course her property.**_

_**VampLover1 has been the most wonderful beta, with invaluable advice on improving the story as well as correcting my punctuation! Any mistakes are mine though.**_

**The county of Devon, southwest England, in the year 17XX**

I had often had cause to reflect that while a simple, honest life might attract superficial admiration, it would never be as worthy of discussion as a truly wicked one.

No greater proof of this could be found than in the many hours of conversation that were devoted to discussing the most notorious family in the county. It could be said that they performed a great service to the general populace, as the tales of their activities livened up many a cold, dark evening in the taverns and inns of the county.

The source of their wealth was the subject of great speculation. All manner of criminal activity was attributed to them. It was probably a great convenience to any other wrong-doer that responsibility for every act of smuggling, piracy or highway robbery was inevitably laid at the door of Sir Godfrey Northman and his four sons.

They lived in a great house high on Dartmoor. Part mansion, part fortress, its forbidding appearance ensured that only the bravest of souls would ever consider approaching Northman Hall. Even they would surely be dissuaded by the savage dogs which served as guards.

What was most remarkable about the family, given all the things they were accused of, was that they were rarely seen in public and almost never during daylight hours.

The arrival of members from that family at the Dolphin Inn, Plymouth, before noon on a Saturday in late spring was therefore guaranteed to create the utmost interest.

My own presence in that city was an equally rare event, although one that few people were likely to remark upon. My grandmother and I would make the trip down from our moorland home only two or three times a year. It was an arduous and uncomfortable journey across the moor, and one not without its dangers.

Grandmama had almost reached her biblical span of three score years and ten, but was still a sprightly woman who retained traces of the beauty of her youth. Her hair was silver, but her eyes were bright and lively. The fine lines on her face gave it a warmth and character that I found comforting. We had been close since I was a child, and I could honestly state that she was my dearest friend.

On the occasion of this visit to the city, a new shipment of fine muslins from India had been the cause of great excitement amongst all the ladies for a radius of at least a hundred miles. My grandmother was determined that despite our straightened circumstances, I should not want for at least two new gowns each year. She still had hopes of finding a suitable husband for me and was therefore eager to keep up appearances.

At the age of twenty-five both my grandmother and I could be forgiven for beginning to despair of ever seeing me a married woman. It was most certainly not for want of physical attraction, though it may seem boastful of me to say so. I had been perfectly aware of the attentions of men since I first reached womanhood. I knew they found my figure fine, my waist slim and my long golden hair attractive. Before the untimely death of my parents, I had been confident of making a good match.

At the age of nineteen, I had been promised to Samuel Merlotte, son of the richest merchant in the city. How different my life would have been if that alliance had taken place. I would have had a fine house on the Hoe. My father and my brother Jack would both have profited from being linked to such a powerful family, and my mother and grandmother would have wanted for nothing.

All it had taken was one stormy night, seven years ago, to end all our hopes, robbing me not only of my dear parents, but of that most essential feature required to obtain a good husband: a generous dowry.

Since that tragic night, I had lived in genteel poverty with my grandmother. She had a small income that would come to me after her death. It was sufficient to allow us to live a comfortable, if simple life, with a maid of all work to assist us. However there was no provision for a marriage portion for me. Most men of my acquaintance were either farmers or merchants, so a marriage would always be an affair conducted for business rather than for love.

We were taking an early luncheon in a private dining room in the Dolphin, from where we would commence our journey home. I always enjoyed our trips to the city, and it had been good to see my brother Jack. It was true that his business interests did not seem to be going as well as he might have hoped, but he remained cheerful and optimistic.

My Grandmother's thoughts, as we awaited our meal, were focused more on my future.

"I cannot understand why you are so set against William Compton as a husband." This was her favourite theme.

"I am not set against him; he is a perfectly respectable man. I know him to be well educated and he is most devout. Indeed his knowledge of the Bible rivals that of Parson Collins." Grandmama was not to know that I did not mean this as a compliment. The truth was that I found William Compton dull and serious. He had no sense of fun, and seemed to find little enjoyment in the world around him.

It was true that he had suffered a terrible tragedy, one which would test the good nature of any person. His first wife and young daughter had died in tragic circumstances. His wife Caroline had been taken with a seizure in bed one night. Their infant had been sleeping with her. Unable to control herself as the malady wracked her body, she had suffocated the child. Caroline recovered, but a few days later she was found dead at the bottom of the stairs in their house. Her neck was broken.

As I reflected on that sad tale, my grandmother continued to sing William's praises. "He is such a handsome man, do you not think? He has borne all his troubles like a true saint. I feel sure that if he were to marry again, he would find happiness, and be restored to good humour."

"You seem to forget, Grandmama, that the main obstacle to his marriage is his mother. She has made it very clear that she will not countenance his marrying for love. Her social status is, after all, dependent on his making a good alliance. I have often reflected how strange it is that a man of one and thirty years is still tied to his mother's apron-strings."

"Lorena Compton is no better than she should be in my opinion. Just because she managed to ensnare a relative of Lord Tregower in marriage she gives herself such airs and graces. She is only a second cousin and twice removed at that. I have heard tell …."

I did not discover what gossip my grandmother had found against William's mother. Our attention was diverted by a loud commotion from the courtyard below. Through the open window a man's voice roared angrily:

"Damn your eyes, fellow, you will see to these horses now. We have had a long ride, and further still to go. I cannot make the journey with a lame horse. I do not care if others are waiting, you will attend to me now."

I couldn't resist jumping up to look out of the window and see who was responsible for such rudeness and arrogance. The speaker was a tall man, perhaps fifty years of age, with bushy gold hair and a long beard. He had dismounted his horse and was advancing on a cowering stable lad.

Accompanying him were four younger men, all clean-shaven and with long hair of the same golden colour. The tallest of the four chose that moment to glance up at the window, catching my eye and causing me to make a hasty and somewhat flustered retreat.

"Sir Godfrey Northman," noted my Grandmother without rising from the table. "It is a surprise to find him in such a public location."

"How …." I began, intending to ask her how she recognized his voice, but she silenced me.

"The service is remarkably slow today, Anna my dear. Could you inquire when we are likely to have our soup?"

As I descended the stair, I heard the hubbub of the bar room fall silent for at least a minute. When the conversations resumed, they seemed louder and brighter. I understood the reason for this as I reached the foot of the stair and came face to face, or rather face to chest, with possibly the most striking-looking man I had ever seen. It was that same Northman brother whom I had seen in the courtyard. At this close proximity I realized that he had almost a foot on me in height. Every part of him was worthy of remark, from his long golden hair to his broad chest, from his muscular thighs to his handsome face.

He smiled broadly and gave me a small bow which I acknowledged with a nod of my head. Without any word he brushed past me to mount the staircase which I had just descended.

It was obvious that his appearance had caused great excitement amongst the serving girls, as I could barely get one sensible word out of them. Eventually I managed to get an assurance from the patroness of the establishment that our soup would be served without delay.

As I returned to the dining room I reflected on two mysteries that cried out for resolution. Naturally I was eager to find out the gossip about William Compton's mother, but I was even more perplexed as to how she could possibly know Sir Godfrey Northman . I considered which topic to address first.

"Why do you say that Lorena Compton is no better than she should be?" I asked as I took my place back at the table.

"Well ….." Grandmama hestitated.

"I am a grown woman, you need not hide things from me," I said, impatient to find out more.

"It is said that she began her career plying her trade on the Barbican."

I could not believe that the imperious woman who dominated what passed for a social scene in our small town could possibly have once been a woman of ill-repute, servicing the sailors and merchants of the port.

"She did not remain on the street for long. Her origins were humble, but her beauty so striking that she soon attracted the attention of Lord Tregower. He held her in sufficient regard to arrange her marriage to Thomas Compton, a member of the cadet branch of his family."

The arrival of our soup prevented any continuation of that conversation. The serving girl left the door open in her hurry to leave, and I could not help but notice that instead of returning to the kitchen she ascended the stairs to the upper floor.

Half an hour later, as we finished our second course, I saw the girl hurry down the stairs. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair awry. Several minutes later she was followed down by the tall golden haired man, who was still adjusting his breeches. Once again he caught my eye, this time giving me a wink to match the lascivious smirk on his face.

I fear I must have blushed as my grandmother gave me the strangest look.

"I hope you will not let yourself be swayed by the appearance of a handsome man. They may promise much, but they cannot be trusted." Her words puzzled me, reminding me of the other mystery I was determined to tackle.

"How do you know of Sir Godfrey Northman?"

She was silent for several minutes, and it was clear that she was carefully considering how much to share with me.

"Many years ago I had some dealings with that family, but I do not care to talk of it. All I can tell you is that they are not to be trusted. They may be handsome on the outside, but I believe their hearts to be as black as the devil."

It was clear that I would get no further explanation, and we passed the rest of our meal in silence. It was already approaching the hour of two, and we should have left several hours ago to be sure of arriving home before dark.

The Northman family was to blame for that. With the disruption to the kitchen and their demands on the stables, they had ensured that our luncheon was served late and our coach was delayed. The coachman tried to persuade us to take the Exeter road, but that would have meant an even longer journey. There were dangers on the moorland road, but we decided to take the risk.

The journey passed peacefully enough. As we ascended out of the city onto the high moorland, Grandmama and I were grateful for our thick velvet travel cloaks. Although a little threadbare, they would keep out the late afternoon chill.

The rocking motion of the coach soon lulled me to sleep. The tall, golden-haired stranger featured in my dreams. In one, he was taking my hand and leading me up the stairs of the Inn to a bedroom on the upper floor. The door opened, revealing not a bed, but a pit of fire instead. I woke with a start.

The coach shuddered to a halt. My sigh of relief that we had reached home was short lived, as I realized we were still out on the high moorland. The coach door opened and a masked figure appeared before us.

"I would be much obliged if you ladies would dismount." I was able to make out the speaker's dark hair and eyes. Most of his face was obscured, and he held a pistol in his hand. His accent marked him out as a stranger to the area.

"We will do no such thing," said my grandmother, her tone firm and brave.

"Do not make the mistake of believing that your sex will offer you protection." A second voice sounded from behind the trees. It was if anything more menacing than the first, and I motioned to Grandmama that we should comply. I tried to stop the fear from showing in my face.

Turning his attention to the coachman, the first assailant ordered our baggage to be set down. As he loaded our purchases onto his horse he turned to the coachman.

"Now off with you." He commanded.

Our driver hesitated at first, looking anxiously at us as if desiring instruction. A pistol shot aimed just above his head soon persuaded him. His expression made it clear that he did not wish to leave us to the mercy of this villain, but self-preservation naturally overcame his scruples and he whipped the horses, driving off as fast as they would take him.

"Now for your jewels, my fine ladies." The countenance of the second speaker remained obscure behind the trees. Something about the voice was familiar, but I could not place it.

"We have nothing of value, sir," I countered, trying to sound braver than I felt.

His agent was not daunted though, grabbing at my Grandmother's hand and snatching her only ornament – a simple gold wedding band. My hand flew to my neck as if by instinct. My locket was the only memento of my parents. It too was taken.

"Take off their cloaks." The hidden voice was cruel.

"Please sir, I beg you. They are of so little value, and without them we will freeze. You would as well shoot us now as leave us to our fate on the moor."

My plea had no effect, and our travel cloaks were snatched cruelly away.

Every instinct in me wanted to break down and cry, but I was determined not to show weakness. My Grandmother was clearly of the same mind. She linked her arm through mine, standing straight and firm as the sound of horses receded into the darkness.

"Be grateful that they only took our possessions my dear. Our fate could have been far worse."

I shuddered at the thought, looking around me for fear that they might return.

"Come now," she continued briskly. "We must find somewhere to shelter if we are to survive the night."

"Yes of course, Grandmama," I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I was already shivering with cold yet it was only just past dusk. I wondered if we would survive to see the sunrise.

_**A/N. If you want to be able to picture the landscape of Dartmoor where this story is set, just think of any version of 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'. Baskerville Hall is high on the moor and most of the action takes place around it.**_

_**I haven't specified an exact year in which this story takes place but it is in the early part of the eighteenth century.**_

_**As its set in England, I've used UK rather than US spelling throughout.**_

_**This story is dedicated to those lovely ladies in the SVM community who take the time to organize contests and challenges. The many excellent entries for **_**The Age of Eric**_** contest demonstrated the enormous potential for taking our favourite characters back in time. **_**The****DeadPan Contest**_** prompted me to take inspiration from the great tradition of bodice-ripper historical fiction.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**We left Susanna and her grandmother abandoned high on Dartmoor, having been robbed by highwaymen.**_

We took shelter in a small hollow created by the roots of a tree. Although it would soon be summer, the nights were still cold on the high moor. We had been left in only our day dresses, and I wondered if my grandmother would survive until morning. I gathered up some bracken to try to create a makeshift blanket. It probably would not be enough, but there was little other vegetation in this bleak spot.

We had no choice but to stay here. The moors were too treacherous to cross on foot. Quicksand and bogs waited to trap unwary travelers and pull them down to a slow and horrible death. We did not even have the comfort of the moon and stars, the night being dark and cloudy.

I am ashamed to say that as I worked to build our shelter, my thoughts were of how sorry I would be to die a maiden, never having experienced the love of a man. I was even more shocked that the image which settled in my mind was not that of my earnest suitor William Compton, but of a tall blond stranger.

What would it be like to have a man such as him desire me? I felt sure I would risk burning up in the flames of passion. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the feel of his hands running over my body, of his lips on mine.

Shaking my head in an attempt to clear my mind, I turned my attention back to my grandmother. She had maintained her dignity and bearing throughout our ordeal, but I could tell that she was beginning to feel the discomfort of our situation.

"We should try to stay awake." I was fearful that if she fell asleep she might never again be roused. "Will you tell me some stories of when you were a girl?"

"Really my dear, you have heard all my stories. There is nothing I can share which will provide us with distraction from this ordeal."

"What about the Northman family then? There must be tales to tell about them."

"There most certainly are, although few are suitable for respectable ladies to hear. I know they have lived on the moor for over two hundred years. I have heard it said that their ancestors came down from the north of England," she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. "It is said they are descended from the Vikings who once terrorized the land."

"I can well imagine that," I responded, unable to suppress a smile at that thought.

"It would seem they are very popular with the ladies of the county," I continued.

A strange expression crossed my grandmother's face. "Yes, that is also true. Sir Godfrey was very wild in his youth. There was more than one child born locally whose golden hair called their parentage into question. I do hear that marriage has tamed him, though. It is said that his wife Agnetha is very beautiful. She was born a Swedish princess and was betrothed to the Duke of Bordeaux. Her ship floundered in a storm on her way to France and Sir Godfrey saved her life. She fell in love with him and fled to England to be him."

The sound of horses' hooves silenced our conversation. I fought to prevent fear overwhelming me. Could it be that our assailants had returned to complete their task? We cowered in our makeshift shelter as two riders came into view. The first of the pair was mounted on a sleek black stallion, which sported a striking white flash on its face. The rider was equally distinctive, with his long blond hair. It was that same Northman brother I had encountered at the Dolphin Inn.

He pulled up short at the sight of us.

"Good evening ladies. It is surely rather late for an outdoor supper," he said sarcastically.

I bit back an equally sarcastic retort of my own, responding simply to explain that we had been accosted by highway robbers.

"You should have left the Inn earlier if you planned to take the moorland road. I am surprised your coachman agreed to take you."

That angered me enough to forget my manners. "We most certainly would have done so had a certain family not disrupted the preparations for our journey and delayed our luncheon."

He had the grace to look a little ashamed as he dismounted his horse.

"Where is your intended destination?"

"Our home in the town of Moreton."

"It is too late to reach that place on horseback now. Will you allow us to offer you shelter for the night?"

I nodded my assent. We really had no choice, however daunting a prospect the Northman mansion might be.

"Forgive me, I have not introduced myself," he continued.

I had to smile at the formality of his manners in such an unlikely setting.

"I am Eric Northman, eldest son of Sir Godfrey Northman. This is my brother Johan."

I responded in kind. "I am Susannah Stackhouse, and this lady is my Grandmother, Mrs. Adele Stackhouse."

"Johan, give the lady your horse," Eric ordered, reaching down to help my Grandmother to her feet.

"Would you ride with me, Miss Stackhouse?" He addressed himself to me. "We can make faster progress and send a carriage back for your Grandmother. I fear that it will be excessively tiring for her to make the whole journey on horseback."

After all the terrible things I had heard about the family, his concern for my grandmother's welfare was surprisingly touching. Perhaps they were not quite as black as they were painted, whatever Grandmama believed. Nevertheless the thought of sharing his horse filled me with a certain apprehension.

Eric lifted me up to sit side-saddle then took up position behind me. One hand banded my waist, holding me firmly against him.

"Did you recognize the robbers?" he asked as we rode off.

"No, Sir I did not. We only saw one of them. He was a small man, no taller than me. His hair was dark and held a curl. I could see that his eyes were brown, but the remainder of his face was obscured. He…" I hesitated, trying to find a ladylike way to express myself. "He had foul-smelling breath, and his clothes were badly in need of laundering."

"You are remarkably observant." Eric laughed at my description.

"Yes, it would seem that the threat of death has the effect of heightening the senses."

"You said there were two assailants," he continued.

"There was another man whom I believe was directing the whole enterprise, but he made sure to keep his person hidden in the trees. I thought there was something familiar about his voice, but I could not place it."

"It was a well planned attack," he said, sounding thoughtful. "Did they take anything of great value?"

"We had so little for them to take. Naturally, all our purchases were stolen; it took many months to save the money for them, but most of all I regret my gold locket and Grandmama's wedding ring. They were mere trifles, but they were the only reminders we have left of those we once loved."

As we rode I began to feel warmer, not just from the heat of his body pressed against mine, but from altogether more unexpected feelings generated by his masculine scent and the feel of his hand through the thin material of my dress. I shivered as I let my head rest against his neck.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I am perfectly comfortable, thank you."

"I hope you are not afraid of me then?" His tone was amused now.

"Should I be?"

"I do have something of a reputation." There was no mistaking the tease in his voice.

"I am well aware of that, but I feel sure you are capable of acting the gentleman if you wish to." I tried to maintain a dignified tone.

"I most certainly am. Besides, when I make love to you it will be on a fine carved bed, made up with the softest linens and silk."

If I had been able to move, I would have slapped him for his insolence. Instead I had to content myself with a verbal retort. "I will thank you not to be so disrespectful. I may not be rich and powerful, but I am still a lady."

I felt him laugh deep in his chest, and he brushed his lips softly across my hair.

We continued on in silence. His horse was surefooted, and I felt no concern as he negotiated the many tracks which criss-crossed the moor. If anyone knew his way around, it would be him, I was sure. Eventually I discerned the outline of a great house in the distance.

As we approached, it was clear that the Northman mansion was every bit as forbidding as I had imagined. It was surrounded by a high wall, topped with metal spikes. The huge iron gates were emblazoned with the family crest and were guarded by two dogs as large and angry as wolves. Lights were still blazing in two or three windows, giving the place an even more sinister appearance.

Eric dismounted his horse and approached the beasts. As he held out his hand, they both crouched down and appeared to bow their heads to him. He pushed the gates open and led his horse up the long driveway, with me still firmly seated.

The doors of the house were flung open by that same giant of a man whom I had seen in the courtyard of the Inn earlier that day: Sir Godfrey Northman.

"Well my son, what have we here? I hope you have not abducted another heiress."

I fancied I could see Eric scowl in the darkness.

"Father, you know perfectly well that Lady Pamela came with me willingly."

"All I know is that I had to pay a considerable sum to her family to keep the matter a secret. Now perhaps you will tell me what is going on."

"Miss Stackhouse has been attacked by highway robbers and left abandoned on the moor with her grandmother. I am merely ensuring their safety for the night."

"Where is the other lady?"

"She is following with Johan. I would like to send a carriage for her if you agree; it is not the night for an elderly lady to be riding out on the moors."

The small coach was dispatched with all speed. Meanwhile a woman had appeared at the door. She was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Almost matching her husband for height, her build was slender and her hair long and silver. Her eyes were a piercing blue like those of her eldest son. Her bearing was so regal that I was moved to drop a small curtsey.

She gave a delightful smile and held out her hand to me.

"Miss Stackhouse, I understand you have had the most terrible ordeal, please come and have some brandy, you will feel better."

I followed her into a grand drawing room, which was dominated by a huge fire. I took a seat on the red velvet couch, glad of the warmth of the flames. She sat and took my hands in hers.

"You are so cold, my dear," she said as she wrapped a thick woolen shawl around my shoulders. "Eric, hurry up with that brandy."

Eric took up a seat on my other side as he handed me the glass. The combination of the brandy and the warm fire began to thaw my hands and feet. I felt able to relax.

"Are you sure you are alright?" he asked me. I was struck once again by the concern in his voice. It seemed so out of character for the scandalous rogue which everyone supposed him to be.

"I am, thank you sir, but am still concerned about my grandmother; she is taking a long time to reach us."

As if in response to that thought, I heard the sound of voices in the hall.

"Adele Stackhouse, I must say I never expected to welcome you here again," Sir Godrey's voice boomed out.

"I can assure you that I am not here willingly, Sir. This is not a place I ever expected to return to."

If the patriarch's statement had shocked me, my Grandmother's answer was an even greater surprise. I suspected from her comments earlier in the day that she knew more about the Northman family than she was willing to admit. To hear that she had a connection with them was as much of a surprise as if she had confessed to being a witch.

Eric and his mother exchanged a look but said nothing. She moved quickly to change the topic of conversation. "I have ordered guest rooms to be made up for the both of you. In the meantime, are you hungry?"

"Thank you, no. I am very tired after our ordeal and would be grateful to be shown to my room."

Lady Northman rang the bell, summoning a maid to escort me.

I barely noticed the room as I stripped off my dress and climbed into the bed. The next thing I knew, the curtains were open and bright sunlight flooded the room. I finally took the time to look around as the maid set up a jug of hot water and a washing bowl for me. The bed was intricately carved and hung with fine red velvet curtains. The sheets were of the finest linen, with a bedspread of embroidered satin emblazoned with a coat of arms. My education had not included a knowledge of Latin, so I was unable to understand the words.

The room was well-proportioned, with fine wall coverings which I judged to be Chinese. I had seen similar decorations in the Merlotte household in Plymouth years ago. It was certainly very different from our simple cottage with its lime washed walls and thin cotton curtains.

I sighed as I lay back on the bed waiting for the maid to leave. I did not generally consider material things important, but I could not deny that to be mistress of a house such as this would be a very fine thing.

Lady Agnetha was alone when I went down for breakfast. I suspect a hint of disappointment must have shown in my face as she was quick to explain that her husband and sons had left early on business. She insisted on ordering the family carriage to take us home. I could not help but laugh as I thought of the gossip that would cause as it drove through the streets of Moreton to our door.

As we went to leave she kissed me on both cheeks in the continental fashion. "I am sorry that our first meeting was in such unhappy circumstances," she said as we waited for Grandmama to join me. "I hope that we shall meet again."

That seemed very unlikely, but I said nothing, contenting myself with returning her smile.

* * *

Three days later a parcel was delivered to our door. It was accompanied by a short note:

_My dear Miss Stackhouse. _

_I was able to track down one of your assailants and am pleased to return most of your purchases to you._

_I am sorry to report that despite my efforts to find the other robber, I have discovered no trace of him. I was also unable to retrieve your locket or your Grandmother's ring. Be assured I will continue the search._

_Please accept my warmest regards, _

_Your respectful servant,_

_Eric Northman_

"Grandmama, look at this!" I called out in my excitement. "Now you cannot possibly expect me to believe that there is nothing good about the Northman family."

Grandmother rolled her eyes. "Anna, you are sometimes so innocent. How do you think Mr. Northman retrieved our goods so easily? Probably because he had some involvement in taking them from us."

"No!" I exclaimed. "I do not believe it …." It would be more truthful to say that I did not _want_ to believe it. It was true that he had saved our lives, but I had to own, if only to myself, that was not the real reason why I could not find it within me to think ill of him.

* * *

_**Thanks to my wonderful beta VampLover1, and to Charlaine Harris for creating the characters and letting us play with them.**_

_**I really appreciated the feedback for Chapter 1, and thanks to those who put the story on alert – it would be really lovely to have your feedback on this chapter.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Adele and Susanna's lives are returning to normal after their ordeal, but Susanna finds herself drawn to the wild moorland. Is it just the lure of the open air or is there something more?**_

The wild moorland had always been a magical place for me. As a child I had relished every opportunity to escape from the city, to run wild through the heather, feeling the wind on my face and through my hair. Even now I would ride out two or three times a week if the weather was fine. Once out of sight of the town, I would hitch up my skirts and straddle my horse in the most un-ladylike fashion.

Up here I didn't care about appearances or proper behaviour. I was free of the constraints of my normal life. I could imagine that I could be anything I chose, a princess perhaps, or a water fairy making her home in the bottomless pools hidden amongst the rocks.

The early summer weather had continued fine and warm, enabling me to make excuses for my outdoor activities. What I could not excuse though was that my rides inevitably drew me in the direction of a certain grand house high on the moor.

Sometimes I fancied that there was someone watching me. I thought I could make out a figure on horseback, up amongst the trees on the far horizon. In my mind I convinced myself I could see a shock of blond hair, even though I knew that such detail was not possible at that distance.

The high moorland in summer was a glorious patchwork of purple heather and golden gorse. It was a sparse landscape, in contrast to the lush green pastures of the lower slopes, but I loved the dramatic bleakness of the scene. In the very far distance the sea shimmered in the sunlight, and the sails of the tall ships could be seen coming in and out of Plymouth harbor.

Dramatic clusters of rocks, as jagged as giants' teeth, peppered the landscape. I knew that at least one of these clusters hid within it a secluded pool of clear, deep water. I had discovered it as a child, roaming with my brother Jack. As the days grew hotter I longed for that cool sanctuary.

I tethered my horse in a shady spot where she could sate her thirst. Leaning back against the rocks I reflected upon my life. I had little to complain about compared to the poor urchins who begged in the streets of Plymouth, or those desperate women reduced to selling their bodies to common sailors for the price of a meal.

Life in our small market town was uneventful but safe. We entertained our neighbours to supper, and were entertained by them in turn. We played cards for pin money, and once a year had the town Ball to look forward to. We mended our old clothes to give to the poor. We attended church every Sunday, where the dullness of the sermon could be countered by the sharing of gossip in the churchyard afterwards.

Perhaps things would have been different if I had married Samuel Merlotte. I would have been a pillar of Plymouth society. The reality of my life would have been very similar, consisting of a never ending round of socialising, punctuated by good works. A respectable lady had so few choices, whether she was wealthy or of more modest means.

My musings had provoked the rebellious spirit within me. I had been unconventional as a child. My mother often remarked that I should have been born a boy, as I followed my brother Jack and copied all of his activities. Now I would rediscover that spirit. I would bathe in the pool, as I had in my childhood.

Slipping easily out of my dress, I was struggling to unlace my stays when I heard a dark voice behind me.

"Would you like me to help you with that?"

I did not dare look round at first, convinced that the heat was playing tricks with my mind.

"There is really no need to be alarmed; I have told you before that I can be the perfect gentleman when I choose to."

That second comment left me in no doubt that I really was not alone. I drew in a long breath to steady myself before turning to confront the man whose presence I both desired and feared: Eric Northman.

"Have you been spying on me?" I challenged him.

"My dear Miss Stackhouse, you have been riding out with increasing frequency in a public place. If I choose to watch you I hardly see how it can be called spying."

"Why did you not make yourself known to me?"

"I did not want to scare you off. Besides, I like to watch you ride, you have a very good seat." A smile, which I could only describe as wicked, crossed his face.

He continued. "Eventually it became clear to me that your choice of rides was not accidental. Was there perhaps someone you were hoping to meet?"

I bit my lip, vainly trying to prevent a blush taking over my cheeks. Eric just smiled again, a radiant smile this time, which lit up his whole face and somehow had the power to set my insides quivering.

"This place is a favourite of mine, too. My brothers and I used to swim here when we were younger." As he spoke he stripped off his shirt to reveal a muscular chest with a light sprinkling of golden hair. My eyes widened with shock as his hands moved down to the buttons on his breeches. It was clear that he intended to enter the water as naked as he had entered this world.

My reaction only served to increase his amusement.

"My apologies please let me attend to your needs first." He took a step closer and untied the laces on my corset, leaving me in nothing but a muslin undershirt which reached to just below my knees.

"Now turn your back if you insist on preserving your modesty."

I did as he instructed, although I was strongly tempted to get a glimpse. The last time I had seen a man unclothed was my brother Jack when he was in his thirteenth year. After that he was too embarrassed to bathe with me any more.

Eric jumped into the pool with a great splash, drenching me with cold water. I turned to see him shaking his head, the water flying out from his hair. The ridges of his chest glistened in the sun. He swam back to the side and held out a hand for me to follow him.

I was hesitant. We both knew that once in the water my thin muslin would provide no protection from his gaze.

"Come, Miss Stackhouse, you are no coward," he challenged. His words were sufficient provocation to action.

I gasped with shock as I slipped into the cold water. He caught me, holding my arms tightly to prevent me slipping under the surface. With a swift movement he captured my mouth in a passionate kiss. I could not help but respond. I clutched at his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his wet skin, savouring the taste of his firm, warm lips on mine.

The kiss seemed to go on forever; I had to force myself to pull away. I was shocked at what I had let myself do, and more so at how much I had enjoyed it. Eric laughed at my evident discomfort, scooping up handfuls of water to drench my head.

"I think you need to cool your ardour, Miss Stackhouse. You assured me that you were a lady, but now I am not so convinced."

I splashed him back with equal vigour. "And you assured me you were a gentleman, but you most certainly have not behaved like one," I retorted in kind.

Our water fight had lasted for several minutes, when without any warning Eric slipped under the surface. I was beginning to panic when I felt something rubbing against my legs.

He reappeared behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and trailing his mouth over my neck and shoulder. He tried to turn me in his arms, but I broke free and swam to the side of the pool.

"You are too forward sir, I barely know you. I am not one of your tavern whores."

"You most certainly are not. Indeed, I do believe that you are the loveliest woman I have ever met. You have nothing to be ashamed of. If something gives you pleasure you should revel in it. Our lives are too short for denial." With that he turned and made for the rocks.

I could not help but admire his beauty as he used his powerful arms to haul himself out of the water. The muscles on his back rippled and gleamed in the sunlight. The rest of him was equally magnificent. Perhaps I was no better than a tavern whore, because the truth was I wanted him. I craved his kiss, craved his touch. My heart was beating faster and my body was experiencing the most unfamiliar sensations.

I pulled myself out of the pool, settling myself in a sunny spot to dry off. Eric had disappeared behind the rocks to where his horse was tethered. When he reappeared he had his breeches on and was rubbing down his chest with a horse blanket. He offered it to me, but I recoiled. It would most certainly not do to return to the town smelling of horse and man.

"You will dry more quickly if you take your chemise off." He had that wicked grin again as he regarded my soaking undergarment.

My scowl just made him laugh out loud as he continued. "Here, have my shirt. I know you are a modest woman, I would not wish to embarrass you."

Taking shelter behind a rock I removed the sodden garment and slipped his shirt on, doing up some of the pearl buttons at the front. The sleeves hung down over my hands and it reached almost down to my knees. I shuddered as I breathed in the powerful masculine scent.

"Hush," Eric whispered as I went to sit down again. "I thought I heard something." He stood up, stretched his elegant frame and moved quietly behind the rocks.

I fancied I heard the sound of a horse, but the noise was muffled and I thought it was probably my imagination. He was shaking his head as he sat back down behind me.

"Was there anyone there?" That thought made my heart beat faster once again, but from fear this time. Any report of our activities could not help but show me in the worst possible light.

"I do not think so. It was probably the wind between the rocks. It can be very deceptive."

He had retrieved a comb from his saddle bag. "Let me comb your hair." It was part order and part request.

"I cannot continue to call you Miss Stackhouse," he said as he began to work through the tangles in my hair. His large hands were surprisingly gentle.

"Most people call me Anna," I replied.

"I am not most people," he retorted, his voice imperious.

"My given name is Susanna, but I have never liked it."

"When I was a boy I had a horse called Suki. I will call you Suki."

I screwed up my face in disgust. "You would compare me with a horse?"

"She was beautiful, strong and brave. Why should you be ashamed by the comparison? That horse saved my life more than once, and she was more loyal than any human."

I was not entirely placated but decided not to pursue my objections. "Very well, if you insist."

"You must call me Eric. Now I fear it is getting late, I will ride with you down the moor."

My hair was nearly dry. Eric helped me back into my dress, first lacing my corset for me. It was obviously a skill that he had plenty of practice in, I reflected.

As I went to mount my horse, Eric took my small hand in his large one, turning the palm over and bringing it up to meet his lips. His kiss lingered, sending shivers through my entire body. I could never have imagined that such a small gesture could have such a powerful effect.

I wanted to ask if I would see him again, but I feared the answer. He may have dazzled me with his fine words, but I had no doubt that he knew women all over the county who were prettier and richer than I. We rode in silence down to the point where moorland gave way to fields and pastures. I watched him ride away, until he finally disappeared from view. Reluctantly I turned my horse to complete the journey home.

* * *

The weather broke that night. A powerful storm came crashing down from the high moor, bringing three days of driving rain in its wake. I forced myself to attend to my chores. I had a pile of clothes to darn if I was to ensure that they would last another year.

Grandmother and I worked together in our small sitting room, a small fire in the grate to ward off the unseasonal chill.

"I saw William Compton in the market on Monday," she said in a conversational tone. "He was asking after you."

"No doubt his mother was with him. I cannot imagine that she was pleased to hear him mention my name."

"She did look displeased, it is true," Grandmother confirmed. "But I know that William is fond of you."

"He can be as fond as he likes, but he will do nothing about it while she lives. I cannot understand the hold she has over him. She is deluding herself if she thinks he will make a good match."

"She has high aspirations for him. She has been seen calling on Lady Pamela Ravenscroft, no doubt trying to solicit her favour."

I gave a snort of disgust. "Lady Pamela would not look twice at William Compton. Everyone knows how wild she is. Why, I have heard that she has taken a buccaneer from Plymouth as her lover."

She had also been Eric's lover, if what I had heard was true. It seemed that every conversation turned my thoughts to that man. I could not help but glance out of the window in the direction of the high moor.

"You seem distracted," she said. "Are you still disturbed by our ordeal?"

"Not at all, I am fully recovered."

"I hope then you are not thinking about that family." Neither of us had to name them, as my grandmother continued to speak with an expression of utmost seriousness on her face.

"Anna, you must believe me. I know they are handsome, but they are not to be trusted. A woman like you is nothing but sport for them, to be used and then cast aside."

It was a warning that I was sure many women had heard over the years. Something about the vehemence of her tone surprised me, though.

I could not deny that I had allowed Eric to be very bold with me, considering he was a virtual stranger. I had also to acknowledge that I had so very little experience of the ways of men. Every sensible feeling told me that I should heed my Grandmother's warning, however much it hurt me to do so.

I was a grown woman I reminded myself, and not some silly girl who would let her head be turned by a handsome face .

I could not allow myself to build any expectations on a mere flirtation. I determined to follow her advice. I would think no more of Eric Northman, nor ride out on again on the high moorland.

* * *

_**The pool surrounded by rocks is a real location on Dartmoor. The swimming scene was my inspiration for the whole story, so I hope you enjoyed it.**_

_**Thanks to Charlaine Harris who owns the characters, and to my beta VampLover1.**_

_**It has been wonderful to get such positive reader feedback to this story, so please keep it coming. If you've got ideas about how the plot might work out, please PM me rather than mentioning it in the review – I'd like to maintain the various mysteries for as long as possible! **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Despite the thrill of her erotic encounter with Eric Northman, Susanna has determined that she will not give into to the temptation that he **__**represents. Will she be able to hold to her resolution?**_

It was Sunday before the fine weather returned, allowing us to venture out to attend church. Whilst it was a relief to be able to leave the house, I was sorry to say that the prospect of a sermon from our parson did not fill me with pleasure. I consider myself as devout a Christian as any other lady of the parish, and I am certainly not ill-educated. Mr. Collins, however, appeared to have a gift for transforming even the most inspiring story from the tale of our Lord into dull platitudes.

As was their usual custom, the respectable ladies of the parish gathered in the churchyard after the service to exchange the week's news. Truthfully, very little of interest happened in our small market town, but they were most practiced in drawing out every detail of a story and spinning it over several weeks or even months.

The gossip was interrupted by a most unexpected event. The sound of a horse coming down the lane seemed unremarkable, but as the identity of the rider became clear, silence fell over the assembled company, and every head turned as one to stare.

At first I was sure my mind was playing tricks, but no, the horseman riding past the church gate on his unmistakable black stallion was undoubtedly Eric Northman. Despite my resolution to have nothing more to do with him, it was all I could do to stop myself from running down the path after him.

I turned away reluctantly, only to find William Compton standing by my side.

"An interesting sermon, I thought, did you not think, Miss Susanna?"

"Our parson always has some useful points of guidance for us," I said with as much conviction as I could manage.

"I do hope the bad weather of the last few days has not inconvenienced you too much." It seemed that his face took on a darker countenance, but I could not be sure that I had not imagined it. He smiled as he continued. "Perhaps you will allow me to walk you home."

Naturally that was the last thing I wanted, but I could see no polite way to refuse him. As he offered me his arm, an imperious voice sounded behind him.

"William, will you please take me home? The company is quite dull, and I find my legs ache."

I don't think I had ever been quite so glad for the intervention of Lorena Compton.

Bill muttered something under his breath, then bowed low to me and turned to leave. I could see my grandmother was deep in conversation with the Misses Fortenbury. They were the finest purveyors of gossip in the Parish, and I could see that she would be engaged for some time. Catching her eye, I waved and hurried off down the path before she could call me back.

There was no sign of Eric as I started down the lane. I felt tears of disappointment pricking at my eyes. I had spent barely a few hours with him, but already I knew that his company made me feel more alive than anyone I had ever known.

Perhaps he was in our little town on business, although that idea was so unlikely that I dismissed it. Surely he would not come all this was just to tease me; that would be too cruel. I was considering these and many other possibilities as I rounded the corner which led to our cottage.

I saw the black stallion first, tethered up at the drinking trough on the town green. The object of my musings was stretched out on the grass, leaning up on one elbow. His face broke into that familiar wicked grin as he saw me approach.

"Mr. Northman," I greeted him with all the formality I could muster. "What brings you to our fair little town?"

"I think you know that, Miss Stackhouse." He had pushed himself to his feet, and was raising my hand to his lips for a lingering kiss.

I didn't trust myself to speak, and eventually he continued, leaning in to whisper in a low voice, even though there was no-one around to observe us. "Do you know the old drovers shelter up by the Black Tor?"

I acknowledged that I did. The Black Tor was the most prominent landmark for miles around. Its high rocks provided guidance for the traveller in all but the thickest of fog. A simple stone shelter had been erected in its lea to provide a resting place for the herdsmen who would drive their cattle and sheep to market in the autumn and spring.

"Meet me there, on Wednesday at noon."

He uttered his instruction hurriedly as we both heard voices approaching. Then with a swift movement he had untethered his horse and mounted to ride away. He turned to give me one last smile as he cantered off down the lane.

"Who was that my dear?" grandmother asked as she reached the spot where I was standing.

"Oh, no-one of any significance; it was just a stranger asking for directions."

She gave me the strangest look before linking her arm through mine to cross the green to our home.

The next two days passed with agonising slowness. I forced myself to attend to my household duties, careful to ensure that I did not so much as glance out of the window in the direction of the high moorland. If I did weaken, it was only when I was sure that Grandmama would not catch me.

I could not deny that her warning about the men of the Northman family had shaken me. Many times I decided I would not go to him, only to change my mind at the memory of the pleasure I felt from being in his company.

I was careful not to demonstrate excessive enthusiasm for my chores as that would be equally suspicious. I had never had a love of darning and the pile of blankets I had been given did not alter my opinion. I was tempted to call on the assistance of Molly, our maid of all work, but we paid her little enough and she would threaten to walk out on us and find a more lucrative profession.

My diligence was rewarded in the most surprising manner. As we took our breakfast on Wednesday morning grandmother observed: "You are looking pale, my dear Anna, perhaps you should take the air this morning."

"You are right, Grandmama. The weather is much improved. I would like to ride up on the moor. Would you object if I took some cold chicken, and perhaps a ham pie for sustenance?"

As she had made the suggestion she had little choice but to agree.

I found the drovers' hut with little difficulty using the stones of the Tor as my guide. Eric's horse was already tied up outside as I approached, but there was no sign of him. Then, to my immense surprise, he emerged from the hut carrying a besom broom. I laughed out loud at the sight.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I should have thought that was obvious. The place is filthy, full of animal droppings. I am cleaning. Perhaps you would care to help," he responded in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I have an idea. Do you have a knife?"

He gave me a puzzled look but extracted a large hunting knife from his saddle bag. I set about gathering bundles of heather. They would provide some comfort on the hard stone floor, and their scent would help to disguise the odour of the previous occupants. Eric had brought some sheepskins and deerskins, and between us we managed to make the little hut quite habitable.

"We have built ourselves quite a little nest," I observed as we sat back to admire our handiwork.

"Yes, a veritable love nest," Eric laughed, pulling me closer against him.

"My grandmother has tried to warn me against seeing you." It was not a comfortable subject, but it was one I needed to have out with him. He said nothing, so I continued. "She says you will use me and discard me, that I should not trust you."

His face took on a stern appearance. "More to the point, my dear, can I trust you? I too have been warned, warned about the wiles which women will employ to trick and trap a man."

He continued to regard me with the utmost seriousness for several moments. I tried hard not to show how his words had upset me. Then a smile began to play across his face, transforming rapidly into a gentle laugh.

"I am sorry, my dear; I should not tease you, but sometimes you are so very serious."

He bent his head down to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind my ear. I could not help but soften into his embrace as he did so.

"The truth is, my Suki, there are no words I can use to make you trust me. You will have to judge me by my deeds. I cannot deny that my behaviour in the past has been wild. Indeed, I will own to being quite reprehensible. I shall have to throw myself on your mercy and beg for forgiveness. What I can assure you is that I will never force unwanted attention upon you."

I made no response, casting my eyes down and turning my attention instead to a stray lock of hair which had tumbled down over my forehead. Eric regarded me intently, reaching out to brush my hair back behind my ear.

"Perhaps the truth is that my attentions are not unwelcome to you. Is that true, my Suki?" He left the question hanging in the air, as I was quite unable to answer. He looked into my eyes, and I found that I could not look away. I knew he wanted to kiss me, and I knew with equal certainty that I would kiss him back. He moved his hand to run his fingers through my hair, slowly pulling my head up towards his.

Any hope I might have had of resistance melted at that moment. His kiss was hot but tender; passionate but gentle. It was the most wonderful sensation I had ever experienced, and I never wanted it to end.

"Let us make ourselves comfortable," he said, when he finally pulled away. He moved to sit against the wall, pulling me to sit across his lap, with his arms around me. The thick stone walls of the little drovers' hut were cool to the touch, but the warmth of his embrace gave me protection against the chill. He laced his fingers with mine, occasionally raising one of my hands to his mouth for a gentle kiss.

We talked for several hours. I told him tales of our little town and the characters who made up my little world. He talked of his childhood on the Moor and told me about his mother and his brothers. He said nothing about his day to day activities, and I was reluctant to question him unless he chose to broach the subject. There was, however, one issue which I very much wanted to discuss.

"I have never thanked you for returning our belongings. It was most remiss of me to forget. Was it very difficult to track them down?" It was a question I had been meaning to ask for some time, being intrigued as to how he had managed the task.

"Not at all. I recognised your description of the robber easily. Franklin is well known in Plymouth. He will work for anyone who pays him sufficiently and is generally willing to undertake all manner of unsavoury tasks. He had been given your linens as part of his reward for the enterprise."

"Did you find out who he was working for?"

"Unfortunately not. Strangely, Franklin was not open to persuasion of any kind. The man responsible must have some kind of hold over him."

"Eric, you did not kill him did you? I could not bear it if someone were to die on my account. "

"You are far too tender-hearted, my dear. Do you think for one moment he had the same regard for your welfare? But no, I let him live ... although he will not hold a pistol for some time." Eric gave a nasty laugh. I had a glimpse then of how his family had come by their reputation.

Naturally, time passed at two or three times the normal speed. It seemed that barely had we arrived before the sun began to drop down to the tops of the trees. I struggled to my feet, pulling Eric up behind me. This time it was I who initiated our embrace. I had to stretch up to reach his mouth with mine.

His strong arms held me in place effortlessly. As we kissed, every sensible thought was driven from my mind. My only care was to know when I could see him again.

"Can you see the Black Tor from your cottage?" he asked. I averred that I could.

"I will mark it. Each number represents a day of the week, one for Monday, for example. I will indicate the day on which we can next meet."

As I rode back into town, I was certain that whatever the appointed day was it could not come soon enough.

_**Well did you doubt it – who could resist after all?**_

_**Thanks as every to Charlaine Harris for creating the characters and to VampLover1 for her support and excellent beta skills.**_

_**I know lots of readers want to know what Gran's history is with the Northman family – all will be revealed but not for a few chapters yet so you will have to be patient. In the meantime some ESN coming up next (I'll be changing the rating to M just to cover my back, although it will be tasteful!)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**You will know, if you're an SVM fan, that the third time is the charm. As Susanna rides out for another encounter with Eric, will she be able to resist him for much longer?**_

The next morning I went to my window as soon as I awoke and was rewarded with the sight of five stones positioned on the Black Tor. I was certain they had not been there before. My heart leapt at the thought that I had only one day to wait before seeing my Eric again.

If time passed quickly when we were together, it demonstrated the utmost tardiness when we were apart. It seemed to me that I spent almost every waking moment with my conscience battling against my instincts. Every sensible voice told me that I was embarking on a dangerous path and that before long there would be no turning back. The undeniable truth was that my desire for Eric, and the passion I had felt when I was with him, made it impossible to heed my own warnings.

My dreams on those nights were troubled ones. They were so vivid that I could barely distinguish them from my waking state. Eric and I enjoyed passionate kisses, but he would then attempt to become more intimate with me. Sometimes I would push him away, but in other dreams I would allow him further access. It seemed that I could not escape the conflict in my emotions even during the darkest hours.

Nevertheless, Friday morning found me making an excuse to ride out again. I carried with me a red velvet coverlet. It had belonged to my mother and formed part of my wedding trousseau. I had decided that it would be the perfect decoration for our secret trysting place.

When I arrived at the drovers' hut, I found Eric already there. He was lying shirtless on the bed of sweet heather and animal skins. His long golden hair was spread loose around his head. He seemed to me to resemble a wanton angel. The only question was whether his purpose was to take me to heaven or to drag me down to hell.

Falling to my knees, I collapsed into his arms and into his kiss.

"Why, Suki, you are quite full of passion today." Eric's tone was amused, but it was clear that the same passion held him in its sway.

I wanted to kiss and tease him as he teased me. I dragged my mouth down to his chest, kissing every golden ridge of muscle, using my tongue to excite him.

"You should be careful when you tease a man, my lover. Eventually he will reach that point from which return is impossible." From the look on his face, I suspected that he was close to reaching that point.

He pushed me away from him, his hands reaching behind my back to loosen the laces on my bodice. Slowly he slipped the dress down my shoulders. He moved inch by inch, his eyes watching me carefully the whole time.

"I will never force myself on you, my darling," he said, his tone becoming suddenly very serious. "You know how much I want you, but it will never be against your will." The feel of his body pressed against mine left me in no doubt of the strength of his emotions.

I could no longer wait. I wanted him, and there was nothing I could do to control myself. I sighed as he exposed my breasts to his view, lowering his head to kiss first one then the other. Heat coursed through me, and I felt an unfamiliar throbbing between my legs. I tangled my hands in his long golden hair, willing him to continue.

His own hands continued to work first on my dress and then on my stays, till all my garments had pooled around my ankles, leaving me naked to his touch. He had spread the velvet coverlet out over the animal skins, and he gently laid me down.

"I said that when I made love to you it would be in a carved wooden bed, made up with the finest linens. I can wait for that day if that is your wish," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I am content just to gaze upon your beauty."

I wanted to say that he may be content just to gaze but I most certainly was not, but I could not voice the words. Instead I moved my hands to the front of his breeches, intending to undo them and undress him as he had undressed me. He resisted my attempts, taking control of the situation to strip them off.

I could not help but gasp at the sight of him naked. I was not completely ignorant of the ways of the flesh, but I had not anticipated that a man could ever be endowed as he was.

"Don't worry, my lover," he whispered, sensing my concern. "You will be ready for me, I will ensure that."

He proceeded to kiss and stroke me, working upwards from my ankles. As his mouth lingered on my inner thighs, I moaned with anticipation and desire. His fingers gently stroked the sensitive place between my legs, and I spread my knees apart to give him better access.

"Look at me, lover." he commanded, his eyes dark with passion.

Taking my hand he guided it to grasp his shaft. I gasped loudly at the sight and feel of him.

"Eric please," I moaned, "I need you." It was true; my whole being was focused on becoming one with him. He entered me so slowly that I was almost screaming with desire. I felt a brief stab of pain but it passed quickly as pleasure took control. My hands dug into his back, pulling him ever closer. As he began to move inside me, I responded to match his pace. Sensations that were at once unfamiliar and intoxicating flooded my body. I felt that I was straining for something just out of reach.

Then, without warning, the myriad sensations merged into a single crescendo, as a golden wave of pleasure swept over me. I cried out his name, and he cried mine at the same moment. He crushed me against his chest as if he would squeeze the life out of me.

Afterwards he wrapped the velvet coverlet around me. He himself was content to lie out naked on the animal skins, glorying in the beauty of his own body. He held me close in his arms, his lips brushing against my hair.

I had waited so long for this moment. I cannot deny that I had thought about it often. I had overheard Molly talking with her friend Eliza, who worked in the Compton household. That girl had the lowest of morals, I felt sure that our Molly would be corrupted by her eventually.

Eliza loved nothing more than to talk about things she had let some man do to her. I did not much care for her experiences; they seemed rough and cruel, having more in common with the ways of animals. I could not but feel gratitude to Eric for making my initiation into true womanhood so exquisite.

I raised my head to look at him, a soft smile on my face. He had been so gentle, so perfect that I could not bring myself to regret what I had done, whatever the consequences might be.

Eventually it was him who broke the silence between us. "I have been waiting for you to reveal your terrible secret to me."

I stared at him, completely mystified by his words.

"I have no secrets; my life is exactly as I have described it to you," I replied, my tone reflecting the surprise which I felt.

"Yet I do not understand how a woman so lively and beautiful as yourself is not married."

I sighed. "That is easy to explain. I should have been honest with you before. I have no dowry and no status. I will come into a small inheritance when my Grandmother dies, but that will be many years hence, God willing. I have nothing of value to offer a man."

"That is not true, and any man who thinks so is a fool." Eric was vehement in his response, as that familiar wicked smile of his took control of his face. "Although I must own, I am very grateful that the whole county of Devon appears to be inhabited by fools. When we are married, they will see the error of their ways."

My heart leapt in my breast as he uttered those words. It was true he had not actually asked me to marry him, or at least not in so many words, but for the first time he had made reference to the topic. I felt myself relax a little. I could not deny that there was more than a hint of doubt lurking in the recesses of my mind. I had given myself willingly to Eric, but a part of me knew this to be an act of the greatest foolishness without the promise of marriage behind it.

Eric's thoughts were taking a different tack. "I understood you to be the daughter of Corbett Stackhouse. Was he not a rich merchant?"

"He was. His business was most prosperous, importing fine cottons and muslins from the East Indies. But…" I hesitated, tears springing into my eyes as they always did when I thought of my parents and their terrible fate.

"But," I repeated, fighting back my emotions, "he invested the greater part of his fortune in one final voyage. He was offered a one-third share in a shipment of fine Chinese porcelain and Indian diamonds. It would have allowed him to retire a rich man, purchase a grand house, and marry me off to a good family. The lure was irresistible. It was such an adventure that my Mother made the journey to the Indies with him. Their ship was _The Rochester._"

Eric's eyes registered recognition of that name.

"You know the outcome, the terrible fate of that vessel. She was lured onto the rocks off Start Point by a crew of Wreckers, one stormy night."

"Those monsters are a plague on humanity," Eric said, with great feeling.

"The worst of it is that my parents were not drowned in the wreck. I have it on the authority of the Coastguards' men who came upon the scene that they were found on the beach but had been bludgeoned to their deaths. My mother's jewellery and my father's pocket watch were taken. It was quite a meagre haul for the price of two lives."

"And your father's business?"

"He did not have the correct insurance. When the ship went down we lost almost everything. There was enough residual estate to establish my brother Jack with his own concern, which he pursues in Plymouth. I moved out to the moor to live with my Grandmother as there was no-where else for me to go."

Despite my efforts to control them, the tears which had threatened now coursed down my face. Eric lifted a thumb and gently brushed them away.

"I am sorry to make you recount such a tale. Now I have made you unhappy. What can I do to restore your good humour?"

I did not have to utter a word in response. I slipped the coverlet from off my shoulders. Eric, needing no further invitation, renewed his attentions to my breasts. He fondled and kissed them, first one then the other, bringing me to such a peak of excitement that it was all I could do not to push him down onto the floor and take control of his pleasure. It seemed that he shared the same thought, as he rolled over onto his back, allowing me to sit astride him.

Unfamiliar as I was with the act of love, it seemed that following my best instincts was all that was required to bring us both to that delightful consummation once again.

When I was finally able to speak I was perhaps a little too bold. "It is said that not all the activities of your family are on the right side of the law."

His gaze was serious for a moment, and then he burst into laughter. "It is true," he said, "that we are not entirely popular with the Revenue men. However, some might regard our activities as a public service. Why, your own Parson has in his study a bottle of the finest rum from the West Indies which lacks the proper revenue stamp. The duty on such an item is so high that a man of his means could not afford its purchase through the proper channels."

"You look shocked, my dear," he continued, after a pause.

"I admit it, but my shock is entirely at the thought of our upright Parson participating in even such a minor act of rebellion."

"You would be surprised if you knew the identity of some of our customers."

"So you confess to smuggling, but what about the other crimes: wrecking? piracy?"

Now his gaze was stern, and I feared I had indeed been too bold.

"Suki, my family were men of the sea for generations. We would never participate in anything which threatened the lives and livelihoods of sailing men. I hope you believe me when I say that."

"Of course I do," I said quickly, wishing to reassure him. "But there are those who believe that piracy is no worse a crime than smuggling, better even if it is carried out with the support of the Crown."

"That also is true. Why, Captain Henry Morgan was a privateer with the support of the authorities, and he eventually became Governor of the Island of Jamaica."

"So do you know any pirates?" I realised that I sounded like a small child asking about some mythical creature, but Eric's world was so very different from my own, I could not help but be fascinated.

"We do have a passing acquaintance with some of their kind. It is in our interests to be in favour with them, and we are sometimes required to pay them off in order to achieve this. I did meet Edmund Teach once, although that was long before he achieved his current notoriety."

"Blackbeard!" I exclaimed with a shudder.

"The very same." Eric laughed at my fearful reaction. "He is not quite as black as he is painted, if you will forgive the expression. He relies on fear rather than violence to achieve his aims. Please do not concern yourself with such matters, dear one. You will be safe on dry land, I will assure you of that.

"Now enough of this talk. The time draws near when you will have to leave me. I think we should say our goodbyes properly, my lover."

To my astonishment, he was once again aroused. Despite my soreness, I was unable to resist his attentions. He was so gentle that any pain I felt was soon forgotten as he once again took me to that magical place.

I had no choice but to ride side-saddle as I returned across the more and through the green pastures towards Moreton. I did not have to feign tiredness to excuse myself from supper. I told Grandmama that I had ridden much further than I intended, and retired to my bed

The moorland weather can be as capricious as the flightiest woman. One day of the bluest skies could be followed by another where the cloud settled so low that it seemed the heaven had come down to meet the earth. Many an unwary traveller had been caught out by the sudden descent of a mist so thick that you could barely see your own hand in front of you. This year, however, we were blessed with a summer so glorious that people commented that it must be a gift from our Lord.

I was most certainly grateful, as it afforded Eric and I with many opportunities to spend time together.

Nothing in my life had ever given me such contentment as lying in my lover's arms on our makeshift bed of scented heather. Sometimes we could talk for hours. At other times we would lie in comfortable silence, listening to the song of the skylark and the warbler. Those little birds seemed not to have a care in the world.

How I wished that I could be as free as they were. If only I could stop the tiny seeds of doubt from taking root in my mind and threatening my happiness.

My education into the ways of love was a rapid one. I had never anticipated that there would be so many ways in which my own body could give me pleasure. Eric was exceptionally skilled, and I was eager to learn how to ensure that my own kisses and caresses returned the same to him.

"You are a quick pupil, my lover," he commented with a laugh.

"Who would not be, with such a skilled tutor." My retort, though spoken confidently, held a secret sadness. He had known so many women before me. How long would it take before he tired of my charms and sought out a new lover?

He made no further references to the possibility of marriage, and that could not but cause me concern. My feelings for him were so strong that even the prospect of ruin could not keep me away from him.

I pushed my worries to the back of my mind. It was easy to do while I was in his company. In a few stolen hours, he taught me so much of the ways of love. He showed me how to give him pleasure and discovered many new ways to return the same to me. I had previously thought that I would find these acts a tiresome duty were I ever to have a husband. With Eric, I realised that the true act of love between a man and a woman was one of the greatest joys that life could offer.

Eventually though, the first signs of autumn began to manifest themselves. The days grew cooler and the mornings mistier. Hints of gold and brown appeared in the trees. We knew both knew that our idyll would end soon, and that only served to heighten our passions. I became reckless as I rode out to meet him, no longer caring to make excuses for my behaviour.

My grandmother was increasingly suspicious, passing comments on the time I was spending out on the moor and how coarse and brown my skin was growing as a result.

Our happiness could not last forever. Eric's countenance as he arrived to meet me one Monday in late August told me that the day I had most dreaded had arrived: the day when he would leave me.

He was uncharacteristically silent when he arrived, but eventually blurted out his news. "I have family business to attend to, business which will keep me away for some little time. I wish it did not have to be so, but I cannot neglect my responsibilities. When I return we will go to my family, and we will be married, if that is your wish."

"All I wish is for you to be safe, and for us to be together." That was the truth, and I made no apology for it.

I wept bitter tears as he rode off in the direction of Northman Hall. Certainly his words were fine but would they ever be realised? Would I ever even see him again?

He had told me enough about his family business that I could imagine the risks he ran, however much he might make light of them. They could not use any of the normal harbours to unload their goods, but instead had a series of secret coves and inlets. I was familiar with some of these, and could picture the crashing waves and the clumps of rock that were a constant hazard.

As if that were not enough, there was the constant fear of betrayal. Most of their associates were loyal, but who could tell when a man would break if offered sufficient inducement. On more that one occasion they had evaded the Revenue men only through a desperate chase across the moor.

As far as the law was concerned they were common criminals, and if their activities could ever be proven, they would be treated as such.

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has posted feedback on this story – I really appreciate it, and look forward to hearing what you think of this chapter. As you know, I always reply to my reviews but as I'm away this weekend the responses will be a bit later than usual. Plus we have the excitement (I hope) of the Season Finale to look forward to. **_

_**VampLover1 did her usual great job on the original version of this chapter but I've hacked it about since then, so any mistakes are mine. I have been trying to follow the wonderful Dear Pam column on the Sookieverse – check it out if you need any advice on improving your writing: **__www(dot)thesookieverse(dot)com__**.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Eric and Suki have enjoyed several weeks of passion in their secret trysting place on the high moorland. The coming of autumn brings an end to their idyll, and Eric is called away on family business. As always the story is told from Suki's point of view.**_

I have never endured two slower weeks in my entire life. The only proof that time had not stopped passing, or indeed had not slipped into reverse, was the gradual worsening of the weather as the autumn winds took control of the moor and the first storm of the season blew in from the English Channel.

I missed Eric more than I could possibly say. I had grown used to having him to talk to, and the loss of physical contact was like an ache within me. There was no-one with whom I could share my feelings. Even the release that might have been granted by riding or walking was denied to me on account of the weather.

It was a busy time both in the town and in our own household. The harvest had to be gathered in. There were herbs to be dried and fruits to be bottled for the winter months. For once I was glad of the activity to occupy me.

Grandmother and were in the market when I heard the news. Two days previously the whole town had been talking about the destruction of the brigantine _The Nightingale_ in a great storm. Now it appeared that wreckers had been responsible for this awful tragedy and that their ring-leader had been apprehended. The name on everyone's lips was that of my lover, Eric Northman.

At first I was sure I must be mistaken, but a chance encounter with William Compton confirmed my worst fears. He seemed quite delighted that at last a member of the Northman family would meet with the punishment which they had avoided for so long.

Bile rose in my throat, and it was all I could do to stop myself being violently ill on the spot.

"Are you alright, Miss Susanna, you look quite pale?"

I managed to recover myself. "I'm sorry, Mr. Compton. It is just that when I hear of a wreck, it brings back terrible memories of the fate of Mother and Father."

"Of course my dear, I quite understand. You should go home and rest. I will be happy to assist Mrs. Stackhouse with her purchases."

I ran home and threw myself onto my bed, sobbing wildly. I only stopped when I heard the front door open as my grandmother returned from the market. Rising from the bed I washed my face to try to disguise my red and swollen eyes.

I barely slept at all that night. In my dreams I saw my parents lying bruised and bloodied on the beach, Eric standing over their bodies. Then the dreams would change, and he would be the victim of the wreckers, with a dark figure looming over him.

"You look quite dreadful," commented my grandmother, harshly but accurately as I took my seat at the breakfast table.

"I slept badly, that is all," I lied. I had never deceived her before, and it did not come easily to me, but I had to find a way to see Eric. My brother provided me with the perfect excuse. "I have been thinking that it would be good to see Jack before the weather closes in for the year. Would it inconvenience you greatly if I were to go to Plymouth for a short visit?"

"Provided you take the Exeter road and do not attempt to cross the moor, I have no objection."

The arrangements were made without difficulty. A regular coach would be leaving in a few days and a passage was easily obtained. The trial of Eric Northman was still the principal topic of conversation, and I was able to discover that it was set for Thursday, one week hence.

Jack was more than usually occupied with his business affairs. He expected me to entertain myself during the day. That suited me very well. I was determined to attend the trial, however painful it might be.

What I had not anticipated was the level of public interest in the trial. I was fortunate to secure the last place in the public gallery.

I dressed as demurely as I could for the courtroom, choosing a dark dress and a wide-brimmed bonnet to hide my face. The public gallery was full of women, most of them attired in gaudy silks and satins. They chattered and laughed through the whole trial as if it were some kind of show.

Eric knew that I was there, I was certain of that, although he never once met my eye. His countenance did not change during the whole time. He appeared to be most amused by the proceedings.

Many witnesses were called against him. All told the same story: on the night of the storm a man on a dark horse was seen directing the wreckers. All agreed that his distinguishing feature was a fine head of long blond hair.

I waited for the time when he would take the stand and refute their allegations, or provide his own witnesses to swear him many miles away. When the time came though, he said nothing, maintaining the same even expression on his face.

I held tightly onto the rail as the Judge pronounced his verdict. There was no doubt what it would be, and I did not want to draw attention to myself by collapsing. He drew out the black cap and placed it on his head:

"Eric Northman, you have been found guilty of the most heinous crime of wrecking, a scourge on our local community and the terror of all sea folk. I therefore condemn you to be taken from this place to a place of execution and there to be hanged from the neck until you are dead."

My knees went weak, as all around me the ladies screamed and fainted. Eric surveyed the courtroom as calmly as if he had been given nothing more than a small fine. He blew kisses to the ladies of the gallery. As he was led down the steps from the dock his eyes met mine for the first time. "I love you," he mouthed.

Jack was waiting for me outside the Courthouse.

"Are you going to tell me what is going on?"

"Will you promise to keep it a secret, I have not told anyone, even Grandmama."

He nodded his assent, and I blurted out the whole story to him; how Eric and I had become lovers and that we were going to be married.

"I have to see him Jack, is it possible to visit him in the City Gaol?"

"Anything is possible provided you are willing to lay out enough money. I believe that ten guineas is the going rate for two hours. Don't worry; I will lend you the money."

The City Gaol was a small building, mainly used for debtors and petty thieves. Eric's presence was guaranteed to generate immense excitement. As I walked along Whimple Street, I could see several ladies who appeared to be trying to gain admittance. One was even allowing one of the gatemen to fondle her person in her eagerness to be let in.

As I approached the other guardian of the gate motioned to me. I flinched, hoping that he was not intending to take similar liberties with me. His words assuaged my fears.

"I have been asked to look out for a beautiful woman with golden hair. Would you by any chance be Miss Stackhouse?"

I confirmed that I was and slipped him five of the guinea coins which Jack had given me. Ignoring the scowls on the faces of the other women, I drew my shawl up around my face and followed the gateman into the prison courtyard.

To my surprise we did not go into the cell block but instead ascended the stairs to a small room. As the door locked behind me, I saw that Eric was standing at the window, his back to me.

"I knew that you would come," he said, turning to look at me with that devilish smile on his face. "I asked the guard to look out for you. I hope you did not pay more than ten guineas for entrance."

"I was allowed in for only five."

"A bargain then," he laughed.

"Eric, how can you be so calm? You are going to be hanged, and I cannot bear it."

All of my fear and hurt rushed to the surface, and I could not prevent myself bursting into tears. Eric crossed the small room in two strides and held me tight against him.

"Hush, my dearest, do not upset yourself so. I am not going to be hanged. I have no intention of going to my death quite yet." He sounded very confident.

"I saw a hanging once, when I was a child. My brother Jack dared me to go and watch. I was violently ill on the spot and had nightmares for weeks afterwards." I didn't tell him that I had recently been having the same nightmares again. This time, though, the body with the bulging eyes and drooping tongue was his.

"Come here," he said guiding me over to a small truckle bed which took up one corner of the room. He sat down, pulling me into his lap and into a passionate kiss. I broke away, looking anxiously at the door.

"Don't worry, darling, we will not be disturbed. I have seen to that."

He trailed kisses over my cheek, down my neck and onto my chest. His hands were busy too, pushing my dress up to my thighs.

"Eric, we should not do this, not here," I protested.

"Suki, my dearest love. You need to know that I may have to leave the country for a little while. My brothers will seek evidence to clear my name and as soon as they have done so I will return. In the meantime, you will surely not deny me something to remember you by."

"I still do not understand why you cannot simply produce an alibi. If you were not at the wreck, where were you?"

"Unfortunately I cannot make my true whereabouts public. It would put too many other lives in danger. My brothers and I were at Burgh Island helping to unload a shipment of rum from the West Indies. Our vessel was also caught in the storm and it took many men to unload it and ensure the safety of the crew." He made it sound as if such heroics were completely natural to him. I could not understand what was so terrible that he had to hide his deeds.

"The Revenue men take a dim view of our activities. The penalties for smuggling are just as harsh as those for wrecking. Not only would I be condemned to death, but my brothers and our associates as well. Now do you understand why I could not speak out?"

I nodded slowly. His only hope would be if someone could find the person who was responsible for luring the _Nightingale _to its doom on the rocks.

"Now, enough of this talk, we do not have much time," he said, gently lowering me onto the small bed.

His practiced fingers made short work of removing my dress, and his own clothes followed. His lovemaking was more urgent than usual, but I was by now so accustomed to his body that I was ready to receive him as he thrust into me.

The thought that this could be our last time together heightened both our desires. Our passion reached a climax more rapidly than ever before. I buried my head in his shoulder to prevent myself crying out his name for all to hear.

Shifting positions, he lifted me to sit on top of him, using the access to fondle and kiss my breasts. I slid up my body against his, slowly at first, then faster as I felt him harden beneath me. When I could tell he was ready I took him inside me again.

His eyes were dark with passion as I took control, moving slowly to accentuate every sensation. Eventually he could stand it no more. He gripped my hips with his hands and moved me faster and faster. As I reached the peak of pleasure, I felt him stiffen and release his seed inside me.

Collapsing on top of him, my mouth found his and I kissed him as hard as I could. Tears were already pricking at my eyes. I tried to force them back but they fell like raindrops on his cheeks.

"Suki," he said, taking my face in both hands and lifting it a few inches away from his. "There is no need for tears. Just promise you will wait for me, and I promise I will return to you. You are already my wife in every way that matters to me, but we will have a wedding that will be the envy of the county if that is what you desire."

I thought about his words as I struggled back into my clothes, then left the foul-smelling gaol yard. I didn't look back, even though I was sure he would be watching me from the window. I did not want my last memory of him to be as an animal trapped behind the bars.

There was bitter muttering from the small gaggle of women still waiting outside the gaol door. "Whore," I heard them say. "Slattern," and other foul terms. One of the gate men gave me a lascivious wink that made me shiver with disgust.

"What have I done, Jack?" I asked, as we sat in his rooms that evening. "I have given myself to a man who can never be mine. I truly believe he loves me, but I have the most dreadful feeling that I will never see him again. I have ruined my life."

I returned to Moreton feeling dead inside. I could not see how Eric could escape death, and even if by some miracle he did, I could not possibly envisage that we could be together while the charge of murder through wrecking hung over his head. As the coach made its lumbering way along the Exeter road I turned over every possibility in my head, but none offered me a solution.

_**A/N Gaol is the original English spelling of jail. The pronunciation is the same as the modern word**_.

_**Thanks to VampLover 1 for her wonderful beta skills, and to Charlaine Harris for creating the characters. The reviews for this story have been so wonderful, I really do appreciate them so thanks to everyone who has posted feedback – keep it coming!**_

_**I'm sorry for the slight delay in posting this chapter – I will try to get back on schedule now.**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**With Eric condemned to death by hanging, things look bleak for Susanna. There is more tragedy to face up to, along with some shock revelations.**_

For four days I did not leave my bed. I neither ate nor drank, having no appetite. In truth I wanted to die. I alternated between sleeping and crying.

Eventually, my Grandmother came to me. Sitting on my bed, she took my hand in hers.

"I know where you have been going, who you have been seeing when you ride out onto the moor," she said gently.

I swallowed hard. "Why didn't you try to stop me?"

"Would I have succeeded?" she laughed bitterly. I had to acknowledge that she was right. Short of chaining me to my bed, nothing would have prevented me from seeing Eric.

"I had a lover once, Anna, up on the high moorland."

I could not have been more surprised if she had confessed to being a fairy.

"His name was Finn, and he was Sir Godfrey Northman's uncle, his father's youngest brother. Like you, we kept our love a secret, until I found that I was with child. He promised to marry me, but instead he abandoned me. He had been promised to another and was unable to defy his family."

Tears filled her eyes as she told me the story.

"What happened to the child?"

"My daughter, Sophia. I could not keep her; it would have brought scandal upon my family. I was kept in confinement until she was born. She was given to the Northman family and brought up as Sir Godfrey's sister.

"I saw her only once again. When she was sixteen, the family arranged a ball to present her to the world. I was invited, on condition that I made no attempt to speak to her. She was so beautiful. Her hair was long and golden, just like yours. It broke my heart that I could not embrace her just that once."

She was silent for several minutes, her face showing all the pain she must have suffered. Finally she continued.

"My parents persuaded your grandfather to marry me, or rather they paid him well to do so. My own inheritance was denied to me, which is why we live as we do now. It was placed in trust for my children to receive after my death. As your father is dead, it will now come to you and Jack."

I understood now her feelings about the Northman family, but it did not alter my opinion.

"Eric has been falsely accused. I know that he is innocent, and I know that he loves me." I wished I could say that I was confident that one day we would be reunited, but in my heart I could not be sure that would ever happen.

Grandmama smiled sadly. "You say that because you are blinded by love. I have heard that there were many reliable witnesses against him. Wrecking is such a terrible crime. After what happened to your parents, surely you cannot condone it. I know that this will break your heart as surely as mine was broken, but you must give up any hope of him."

Although I did not agree with her reasoning, I had to acknowledge the truth of her conclusion.

"If I cannot have Eric, I will not marry anyone. I will die an old maid," I said defiantly.

"You may say that now, but I cannot live forever. How will you cope when I am gone? Life is hard for a woman alone, even if you will have an income of your own. You must forget Eric Northman and choose a sensible husband."

Her words must have been prophetic as that night a chain of events began which would change my life forever.

The first news we heard came the next morning as Molly served us breakfast. She was clearly excited by something as she dropped two dishes.

"Molly, will you please stop fussing and tell us what is wrong," Grandmother said sternly.

"It's Mrs. Compton, ma'am," she replied. "She was taken poorly in the night. I have it from my friend Eliza who works there. She is not expected to survive."

Grandmother and I looked at each other with shock. Lorena Compton had the constitution of a horse. She was never known to be ill, even when the whole town was struck down by a fever or the chills.

"What ails her, do you know?" I asked.

"Eliza said she was taken with a seizure just after finishing supper."

Two days later word came that Lorena Compton had died. Naturally, Grandmother's first thoughts were of William.

"The poor man, he must be terribly upset. We should ask him to supper." She proceeded to write a note of condolence and sent Molly off with it.

I thought it was too soon, but Grandmother was determined.

"Now that he is finally free, there will be several mothers seeking to engage him. Why, only yesterday I heard Mrs. Hamby in the market place saying he would be a fine match for her Jessica."

"That little thing, she is no more than a child," I retorted.

"You have just passed your twenty-sixth birthday. If you are not careful, your wish to die an old maid will be granted."

My grandmother continued. "I heard something else of interest in the market. It seems your Mr. Northman has escaped. He was freed from Plymouth Gaol by his brothers and taken to the coast. It is believed that he boarded the _Margaret_, which is said to be bound for the West Indies."

I suppressed my anger that she had not thought to tell me this immediately. She knew it was of far more interest to me than any gossip about William Compton's marriage prospects. However, she had made it very clear that she did not want me to think any more of Eric. Her intentions lay in quite another direction.

William dined with us the following night. He seemed in good humour for one so recently bereaved. He expressed his great sorrow at the loss of his mother, but his features did not display the same sadness as his words. Indeed he was quite ready to turn the conversation to the latest scandal, which naturally included the trial and the daring rescue of Eric Northman.

"Wrecking is the most heinous of crimes," he intoned, sounding as pompous as Parson Collins. "We should be most grateful that a perpetrator was apprehended. Indeed I believe the whole county would have rejoiced if a member of that notorious family had got his just desserts. It is a pity that he will not face justice, in this life at least. Do you not agree, Miss Susanna?"

A warning look from my grandmother made me swallow hard and nod in acknowledgement.

Grandmother left the table early, complaining of a little indigestion. I used this as an excuse to bring the evening to an early close. Politeness forced me to invite him to call again if he felt the need for company, and he was enthusiastic in avowing that he would do so.

I slept badly that night and could hear that Grandmama was not well. Eventually I lit a lamp and went into her room. She was lying on top of her bed, still fully clothed and bent double with pain. I rushed to call Molly to go and fetch the doctor.

He pronounced himself mystified. "Mrs. Compton had very similar symptoms. I think it must be some malaise blown in on the autumn winds. I will give her an emetic, but other than that, rest is the only cure."

She continued in pain for several days. I could tell that she was getting weaker, and she knew it too.

"Anna, dear, all my affairs are in order. They are held with Mr. Lancaster in town. Everything in this house is left to you, but I would ask you one favour."

I tried to dissuade her from such talk. She was such a strong woman; I could not believe she would be taken from me.

"I have no idea where Sophia Northman is now, but if you ever find her, please give her this ring. I want her to know that I did not give her up willingly and that I never stopped loving her, just as I love you and Jack."

Those were the last words she ever spoke to me. She drifted into sleep and died the next morning.

William Compton was quick to offer his condolences. Grandmama had barely been laid out when he was at the door. I cannot deny that his presence was of some comfort to me. The house seemed so empty with just Molly and myself. There were so many affairs to sort out, and I did not want to rely on Jack to help me.

William accompanied my to Mr. Lancaster's law office to settle my grandmother's estate. I was shocked at the size of the bequest left to me in trust. One thousand pounds a year was a comfortable sum. It angered me that it had been denied to Grandmama in her lifetime.

Her funeral was held on a fine autumn day. It seemed that the whole town turned out, and I was gratified to see that people were genuine in their mourning. Even Mr. Collins surpassed himself with a very moving eulogy. Molly and Eliza made a fine funeral supper, and I took great comfort from the many kind words of our neighbours.

William was most solicitous of my welfare. He hovered around me the whole day, making sure I was not too hot, or too cold, and that I had eaten sufficiently to maintain my strength. I was not surprised to find that he was still in the house when everyone else had left. I noticed him slip some coins to Molly and Eliza. They hurried off down the lane, trying to stifle their giggles.

"Miss Stackhouse, Susanna," he said in an earnest tone, taking up a position beside me on the couch. "You must know how fond I am of you. Now that we are both alone in the world, it appears to me most seemly that we should form an alliance. I have my farm, and you have your inheritance. Together we will be able to live a comfortable life."

I had expected him to press his suit eventually, but not so soon.

"Mr. Compton, you do me a great honour. I am sure that you will understand that I need a little time after everything that has happened. Will you please allow me a day or two to give you my answer?"

He acknowledged that he would and, with a low bow, left me to my thoughts.

I could not sleep that night as reason battled with passion. I loved Eric, and I believed that he loved me. I had promised to wait for him, but I had to face the truth that I could wait forever. Who knew where he was now, and whether he would ever return to England?

Molly had more news for me the next morning.

"Miss Susanna, you will never guess what has happened now. I have it on good authority from Eliza, who overheard Mr. Compton talking at supper."

I motioned for her to continue.

"Word has reached Plymouth that the _Margaret_ was set upon by pirates as it approached the West Indies. Mr. Compton said that all those on board were cruelly slaughtered."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep a calm expression on my face. Could there possibly be a second ship with the same name. Molly's next words ended all hope for me.

"It is the ship on which Eric Northman escaped the country. They say it is the Lord's work, that he escaped the hangman's noose only to perish by the pirate's sword. It is a warning to us all that evil will be punished. Eliza heard Mr. Compton say so."

"Why would I care about the fate of such a man? I have better things to do than gossip about strangers, and you should have as well. Do you not have chores to attend to?"

Poor Molly clapped her hand over her mouth and ran out of the room in tears. I was never usually so sharp with her. I regretted the harshness of my words immediately and followed her to offer an apology. Luckily she accepted my explanation that grief for Grandmama had made me short-tempered.

It must have been some terrible destiny that made William Compton renew his advances when my resistance was at its weakest. I tried my hardest to show the proper pleasure, but in truth it was with a heavy heart that I agreed to marry him.

"I have some very exciting news for you, my love. I have purchased a plantation on the island of Barbados. People say that there are great fortunes to be made in sugar and rum. We can start a new life there."

This all seemed very sudden, and I wondered how he had managed to complete the purchase so soon after his mother's death. He replied that it was quite possible to expedite these matters if you knew the right people.

"If you agree, we can marry in Plymouth by special license. I have booked us a passage within the fortnight. We can sail before the worst of the winter storms."

"So soon, William, why can we not wait for the spring?"

"What reason is there to wait, my dear? Neither of us have any remaining ties here. I have heard that the island of Barbados has the most temperate climate, and the plantation I have secured for us is a most fertile one. I feel sure we will be very happy there."

A sick feeling in my stomach told me that I would never be truly happy again. Without Eric I didn't really care what happened to me. It was of no matter where I lived or what I did. Besides my brother Jack, England held nothing for me. Jack was now engaged to be married and would have little time for me once he had a family of his own.

Hiding my reluctance, I agreed to William's plan.

_**Thanks as usual to VampLover1 – number one beta. Charlaine Harris – they're her characters.**_

_**The reviews have been wonderful – particularly the suggestions for alternative plot points. I wish I had thought of some of them, but its too late now. I know some of you will hate me for bringing such suffering on Anna/Suki but I'm afraid that's how it goes in fiction – how often do you find yourself screaming at the screen or the page because the character does something really stupid! **_


	8. Chapter 8

_**William Compton has taken advantage of Anna's weakened state of mind to persuade her to marry him. In two weeks time they will leave England for a new life abroad.**_

William was most solicitous of my welfare as we prepared to leave England, perhaps forever. He spent every day at my little cottage, bringing his maid Eliza with him to help with the many tasks which required completion. There were papers to sort, clothes to prepared, and I had to make small selection from all the books and mementos to take to my new life.

He insisted on staying during the evenings. We would sit by the fire as he read from the scriptures or from books of sermons. There were times when I was grateful for the company. On many other nights though I would have liked nothing better than to be left alone. He made no attempt to force his attentions on me, for which I was most grateful. A chaste kiss on the hand was the extent of his intimacy. I knew that once we were married he would expect more, but I tried to convince myself that it could not be so very bad.

As I lay awake night after night I was forced to consider whether I did deserve punishment. I had committed the sin of fornication, which was a terrible thing

My attempts to persuade William to delay our departure until the spring were unsuccessful. He brushed aside my protests that such haste was unseemly, declaring that his love for me was so strong that he could not bear to wait, and that anyway he had no interest in what our neighbours thought of us.

There was not sufficient time to purchase a new gown for my wedding day. Molly helped me sew some new lace onto a pale blue silk which was not too worn, and which flattered my figure. It was not the wedding I had hoped for, but I was determined to look my best.

Our ceremony in the Plymouth Guildhall was a simple one, with only my brother Jack and his new fiancée as our witnesses. I was glad of the lack of company, as my thoughts were dominated by the fear of discovery. I would be shamed indeed if my new husband realised that I was no longer a maiden. As it transpired, I need not have worried.

William had secured a room in the Dolphin Inn for the two nights until our ship was due to sail. No sooner had we entered the room than he pushed me roughly up against the door. "I have waited so long for this moment," he panted, his breath coming heavily as he tore at my dress.

"William, please, let me undress properly. This is my wedding night; it is a very special night for any woman."

Reluctantly he pulled away, taking the opportunity to strip off his top coat and pull off his boots. No sooner was I out of my dress than he took me by my shoulders and pushed me roughly down onto the bed. He did not even take the time to remove his breeches, just unbuttoned them and pushed them down his thighs. Tearing my muslin chemise asunder, he parted my legs roughly with his knee. Raising himself above me he thrust himself inside me with no preparation.

I did not have to pretend to be in pain. His assault was agonizing, and I cried out loud. It took him no more than two minutes to reach his completion. As he pulled out of me, he had a look of satisfaction on his face.

"I am your husband now, and you will do as I please." There was a cruelty behind his words that shocked me.

The next night was even worse. Although he did allow us both to undress this time, he seemed to take pleasure in causing me pain. He pushed me down onto my hands and knees and took me from behind, forcing himself into me over and over again. There was no tenderness in his lovemaking; indeed, I can hardly bring myself to use that word to describe what he did to me. He had no interest in giving me pleasure. He liked to fondle my breasts, but he would pinch and tweak them most cruelly until they were red and sore.

It was with genuine sadness and not a little fear that I took my leave from Jack early the next morning. I was tempted to blurt out my unhappiness and tell him that I had made a most grave mistake, but what could my brother do? William was my husband now and there was no way to escape him.

Instead, I forced a smile and promised to write to him as often as I could. I hoped that he would be happy with his own intended wife and that his business would prosper.

We did not have many possessions to take with us. The plantation house would be fully furnished, and the hot climate of the islands required only summer dresses. Two trunks were more than sufficient for everything I had selected.

I noticed that William had a small casket which he kept about his person at all times and refused to allow any of the crew to handle. It was a delicate and beautiful piece, made of fine mahogany. The most striking feature was its decorative clasp in the form of a golden mermaid. I enquired as to the contents, only to be told that it contained the deeds to the property and other legal papers, and that I was not to 'worry my pretty little head about it.'

It did not take many days at sea to discover that I was not a good sailor. I was sick almost every morning, as the swell of the waves upset me greatly. It did not discourage William from enforcing his conjugal rights, however. We had a small cabin with a single bed and a hammock above it. The lack of comfort was no deterrent to him though. My husband was quite happy to take me on the floor or to bend me over the table provided for our meals. There was no pleasure, no pretence at gentleness. Indeed, the act of love for him had more in common with the rutting of animals. I suspected that he could not bear to look at my face.. If he had done so, he would have found it more often contorted with pain than any other expression.

After several days at sea, the swell finally subsided enough for me to be able to take a turn about the deck. I smiled and nodded at the other passengers as they passed and acknowledged the respectful salutations from members of the crew, forcing a smile to hide my desperate unhappiness.

A sudden turbulence forced me to take a seat on one of the benches that lined the side of the main deck. I smiled at the young cabin boy who was scrubbing the deck as forcefully as if his life depended upon it. He looked no older than twelve years.

"Does the Captain work you very hard?" I enquired.

"Oh no, Ma'am," the boy replied. "He is a very fair man. Provided we all complete the tasks assigned to us, we are guaranteed two meals a day and a tot of rum every night."

"You seem very young to be at sea."

"I am fourteen," he said proudly. "Although to tell the truth, I am not sure of my real age. My parents are dead, and I was brought up in the workhouse. Life at sea is far better than that any day."

I smiled kindly at him. My own suffering made me more aware of how cruel a place the world could be, especially for the poor and friendless.

I did not notice the dark figure looming over me until the fingers tightened around my arm. "I think it is time to return to our cabin, _wife_." William's voice left me in no doubt of what would follow.

As I had anticipated, no sooner had we entered the cabin than he pushed me down on the bed and jerked my skirts up above my waist. Unbuckling his belt, he proceeded to beat me. He was careful to choose the tender flesh of my thighs so as to leave no visible marks.

"You are such a whore that would take a child as her lover," he snarled as the belt roughly came down over and again.

When he had finished, he calmly righted my clothing and took a seat as if nothing untoward had happened. I bit my lip until it bled. I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of crying, although my eyes were damp with tears.

"Some Bible study is long overdue." William's ability to sound completely normal after an act of such savagery was truly terrifying. "I think for today we should reflect on the story of Eve, that harlot in whose image all women are formed. We shall then study Bathsheba, who enticed King David to take her as his lover by bathing in his view, thereby inflaming his lust. She made a good man into a murderer."

I was beginning to think he was quite mad.

After that experience, I was careful to ensure that I did not so much as meet the eyes of another man. So long as I only associated with the female passengers I would be safe from William's insane jealousy. In their company, though, lay the risk of exposing my unhappiness for all to see.

The grandest of all the ladies on board was Lady Sophia Leclerq. She was engaged to marry the Governor of Barbados and was on her way to join him. I did not expect to attract the attention of such a distinguished person, and it was therefore a surprise when she approached me one morning, slipping her arm through mine as if we had been the best of friends forever.

"Mrs. Compton, is it not? I understand that you are bound for the island of Barbados and will be joining our little community there."

"That is true, my husband has purchased a plantation on the east of the island."

"I do hope we will be good friends. I am concerned that I will find the place so dull and will crave almost any company."

It did not seem much of a compliment, but I smiled in acknowledgement nevertheless.

"You are newly married, I understand, but you do not seem to be very happy."

I said nothing, fearful that even a word would bring tears to my eyes. She was happy to continue with her own tale.

"Marriage is such a lottery, I have always felt. My first husband turned out to have no interest in women, preferring the company of his own sex. Even so, I was the one who was blamed for not being able to provide him with children.

"He was a Frenchman, the Duke of Bordeaux. It is such a strange tale; you will surely laugh when you hear it. My cousin abducted the wife intended for him, and offered me in exchange. They must have thought it a fine match for me, as they paid handsomely for the privilege. "

"Did you not mind being sent away from your family to a strange land?" It was strangely comforting to realize that even wealth and status did not protect a woman from an unhappy marriage.

"No indeed," was her lively response. "I was young, and it was an adventure. When I realized that the Duke would never be a true husband to me, I succumbed to the attentions of Captain Leclerq, the head of his personal bodyguard."

I should have been shocked by how forward she was in sharing such intimacies with me. Her manner was so engaging, however, that I found myself quite intrigued.

"What happened?" I asked.

"The Duke was quite willing to tolerate our affair, as it provided cover for his own liaisons with the young men at his court. He even hoped it could provide him with a son whom he could claim as his own.

"Unfortunately, war intervened, as it so often does. My husband and my lover were both killed at the battle of Blenheim. I found myself once again alone and friendless. I chose to keep my lover's name, in memory of the happiness we had found together."

"Please forgive my inquisitive nature, but how did you then meet your new intended husband?"

"I met Russell in the city of Plymouth. I had returned to England to visit my family, and he was about to set sail for his posting in the West Indies. We met at a ball hosted by Lord Tregower, the High Sheriff of the County. I cannot say that it was love at first sight. To be truthful it is more accurately a marriage of convenience. I need a husband and I cannot deny that I enjoy a position of status."

I could not find it in me to blame her for her actions. I was now only too well aware that a woman had to find security wherever she could.

She smiled kindly. "We should go inside; it is nearly time for supper. Tomorrow it will be your turn to tell me your story."

We became firm friends after that. I shared with her a little of my tale: how I had met my true love only to have him torn away from me. I held back the full truth. I did not feel it was entirely prudent to reveal my lover's identity, or to confess the loss of my virtue to him.

We spent most afternoons together, either strolling the deck or sitting in her cabin. She loved to braid my hair, which was identical in its golden colour to her own. I would not ordinarily have formed such a friendship so quickly, but the loss of my grandmother had been so hard to bear, and I had never been so desperately lonely in my life.

Something about her seemed very familiar, perhaps the way she smiled, or the stubbornness of her expression when she had determined on her course of action.

Her status gave her great power on board the ship, power that I felt sure she was using to my advantage. On most evenings William was summoned to join the Captain's table. The rum flowed freely which I viewed as a great benefit as it would render my husband incapable of forcing his attentions on me.

She sought my promise that once we reached the island I would visit with her often. Naturally any reason to keep me out of my husband's company could only be a blessing so I was delighted to agree.

The sea became calmer as we sailed south towards the tropics; the sun stronger and the air more mild. My sickness became less troublesome, and I found myself more able to manage my nights of terror. There had been times at the start of the voyage when only the fear of eternal damnation had prevented me from throwing myself overboard into the churning seas. Now I could see a future which I could possibly bear.

William's assaults on my person, though brutal, were mercifully less frequent. I trained myself to take my mind to another place, one filled with memories of those days spent with Eric in our moorland sanctuary. It gave me some satisfaction to reflect how wounded William would be if he knew my true thoughts.

We were only a few days from our destination when an event occurred which was once again to turn my life upside down.

The cry of 'ship ahoy' caused little interest at first. However as the vessel drew closer, it became evident from the reaction of the crew that all was not well. I heard little Tommy the cabin boy cry: "It is the _Queen Anne's Revenge_."

I did not understand the reason for his fear until William appeared from nowhere to seize my arm. His face was contorted with rage as he forced me back to our chamber.

"Now, my little whore, you will receive your just desserts. Blackbeard and his crew will have no mercy with you and your kind. Did you think you could deceive me? Did you think I did not know about your days on the moor with the smuggler?

"We could have been happy if you had saved yourself for me. I only had to wait for the right moment to act, to rid myself of my mother. Why could you not have waited?"

I was shaking with fear, convinced that he had finally descended into madness, when a member of the crew appeared at the door. He addressed himself to William.

"If you want to leave we must go now. We have a rowing boat ready for the male passengers. If we stay we will be slaughtered."

William's eyes were wild, torn between his hatred for me and his need to save himself. Self-preservation won out, and he hastened away, only stopping to lock me in the cabin.

I did not know whether to delight in the departure of the man who had caused me so much pain, or to be in terror of the horrors about to be visited upon us. Could even the cruelest pirate be as unkind as my husband?

Trapped in my cabin, all I could hear were the sounds of the violent struggle that was taking place on the decks above me. The clash of swords, the screams of pain, the retorts of the pistols all added to my terror. The distinctive voice of Lady Sophia could be heard above the din.

"Take your hands off me, man! Do you not know who I am?" The danger of her situation did not serve to make her any less imperious. I could not help but smile at the strength of her character in a time of such peril.

My attention was called back to my own situation by the sound of raised voices outside my cabin. Looking around I saw William's small casket. Some instinct made me clasp it tightly to my body.

The first voice was horribly familiar to me. The sniveling tone and distinctive accent brought back the horrors of that terrible encounter on Dartmoor all those months ago.

"If there's a woman in there, she's mine. The capt'n promised me. I never 'ad a woman last time."

"You will take your turn with all the others, Franklin, you know the rules. Whoever she is, I pity her if the Captain lets you have her."

As the door crashed open, and the identity of the second speaker was revealed, I dropped down in a dead faint.

_**Okay it's not that much of a cliff-hanger but I'm going to make you wait a couple of days to see if it is who you think it is!**_

_**Thanks to VampLover1 (although any mistakes in the story are of course mine.) The characters belong to Charlaine Harris, but you know that.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Barely two days from their destination, the ship on which Susanna and William are travelling is attacked by pirates. Her cowardly husband has fled with other male passengers, abandoning her to her fate.**_

I came to from my faint to find myself in an unfamiliar cabin, but with a very familiar face mere inches from mine.

"I thought you were dead," I exclaimed. "William said you had been killed by pirates."

"If you remember, my love, I did explain that Mr. Teach does not need to butcher his captives; his very appearance is quite sufficient to bend them to his will."

The combination of shock at discovering my true love still alive, and anger at his supercilious tone, riled me so greatly that I slapped him hard across his face.

"Eric Northman, how could you be so cruel? You have no idea how much I have suffered."

He gathered me into his arms. It was a simple action, but it broke through all of the anger and pain which I felt. I looked into his eyes and found them as full of love and concern for me as they had ever been.

"Please forgive me, my dearest. I confess I am somewhat shocked myself. You are certainly the last person I expected to find behind that cabin door. Why it is almost as much of a surprise as finding my aunt on board."

Before I could ask what he meant by that, he lifted up my hand, his eyes widening with surprise as he saw the gold band that William Compton had placed there. He squeezed it so hard that I thought he would break every bone. I cried out with pain forcing him to release me.

"Please tell me this is not true. I thought you would wait for me. Did you not get my letter?"

I shook my head.

"At first I thought you would hate me, knowing how you felt about the crime of wrecking. When I saw you in the gallery at my trial, and afterwards when you visited me in prison, I knew then that you truly loved me. I wrote to you telling you to go to my family for protection."

The tears pricked at my eyes as I thought of how different things would have been if only that missive had reached me.

"I never received it. Without you I felt my life was no longer worth living. I had been told that you were dead. My grandmother died suddenly and I was so alone. When William Compton asked me to marry him I could see no alternative."

"We will talk more of this later. For now I have instructions to escort the women passengers to Captain Teach's vessel. I promise you will be quite safe, but please maintain your silence and do exactly as I tell you."

We climbed up onto the deck. I winced at the signs of the fierce fighting that had so recently taken place. At one end of the deck I could see members of our crew. Some appeared to be wounded, but I was pleased to see that most were still alive, including Tommy the little cabin boy. He gave me a confident wink.

Many of the passengers appeared to be with them. It appeared that some of the men had fled in terror, including my husband, but others had stayed to fight and to protect their families.

Lady Sophia and three or four of the other ladies were standing in a separate group. They were being guarded by two of the most fearsome looking fellows could possibly imagine. One was a bald headed African who stood well over six foot. The other was a small Lascar who sported an eye-patch and a mouth full of gold teeth.

It was towards that group that Eric guided me. His hand was firm on my arm as he addressed the taller man. "I think this is the last of those worth taking," he said cruelly, his eyes not meeting mine.

Lady Sophia was regarding him with a strange expression, but he ignored her and instead indicated for us to move towards the side of the ship. A ladder hung down, and at its foot, bobbing about in a manner which did not look entirely safe, was a small rowing boat.

"We have a fine crop of ladies here," the Lascar laughed, his accent so strong that I could barely understand his words. There was no mistaking the intention behind them though. Eric gripped my arm more tightly in a gesture which I hoped was intended to be reassuring.

I was shaking as we were hauled onto the deck of the _Queen Anne's Revenge_. My condition had several causes but the greatest of them was the sight of the man who stood in front of us: the Captain of that ship. True to his name his beard was black and bushy. It was twisted into pigtails and festooned with brightly coloured ribbons. He wore a large black three-cornered hat which appeared to have fire-crackers tucked under its brim.

"You appear to have chosen the prettiest lady for yourself, Northman." The captain laughed in a voice which demanded attention as much as did his appearance.

Eric just nodded acknowledgement. Meanwhile, Blackbeard approached our little group, looking the other ladies up and down. To my surprise, Lady Sophia stepped forward.

"I am to be the wife of the Governor of Barbados. I can assure you that if any harm comes to any of my friends here, I will have you hunted down like an animal. However I am sure that you and I can come to some arrangement."

The pirate stared at her for a few moments, then burst into another gale of laugher. "Very well my lady, it will be as you say." He called the tall African over. "Take the other ladies down to the cabin. You will stand guard outside. If any member of the crew so much as touches them, I will ensure that they are never able to satisfy a woman again."

Eric took that as his cue to take me to one side and guide me down to the lower deck where he had his cabin. As soon as we were safely inside, I turned on him, my head full of questions.

"How on earth did you end up as a crew member on this notorious ship? Have you not put yourself in more danger by associating with the pirate?"

"The tale you heard was partly true. The ship on which I escaped from England was set upon by these pirates. As is his normal custom, Mr. Teach relieved our ship of any valuables and supplies, but let the crew and passengers at liberty. He invited me to join him and I agreed. "

The concern I felt must have shown on my face. His course of action seemed reckless in the extreme. He continued his explanation.

"I need money, my love, if I am to return to England and clear my name. This seemed the best way of getting it. It was never my intention to stay with him for long. He agreed that I could have safe passage to leave whenever I wished. I think perhaps that time has come. Tell me though, how did you end up so far from home?"

I explained how William had persuaded me that we should start a new life using the money left to him by his mother, and my inheritance. It was almost amusing to reflect how angry he would have been had he known that his actions would have resulted in this reunion.

I did not trust myself to confess the full extent of my former unhappiness, and Eric seemed content not to enquire into the details of my marriage. He was however greatly amused to hear of William's cowardice in fleeing from the pirates and abandoning me to my fate.

"He has performed a great favour for me by bringing you here. I am almost sorry that he will now live to know of it. Now tell me my dear, what is that casket which you seem so eager to keep with you."

I had almost forgotten that I had it. "It contains the title deeds to the plantation and William's legal documents. I thought that I should keep it safe."

"Would you object if I opened it?" Eric asked.

I could see no reason to refuse and allowed Eric to break the lock with the handle of his pistol. As I expected, a pile of papers lay in the casket. We took them out to consider them. The deeds to the plantation were there, along with Lorena's last Testament, and one made by William himself.

It left everything to his wife, and then to any children who might result from their union. It was dated before his first marriage, but as the wife was not named, I could only suppose that it would be equally valid for me.

There was also a mortgage document in which he borrowed one thousand pounds in order to purchase the Clifton Hill plantation. To my surprise it was dated the first of August just passed, and was repayable on Michaelmas Day.

"How could William have known that he would be free of his mother and have access to my inheritance by the end of September?" I wondered out loud.

Eric had no answer as he continued to tap at the box. "It is much deeper on the outside than the compartment we have emptied," he explained. "It has a secret chamber, I just need to find the catch."

He ran his hands gently over the golden mermaid. I watched him smile as he pressed against her breasts. The casket slid open to reveal the remainder of its contents.

"That was most certainly designed for a man to open," I laughed, but the smile froze on my face as we examined the contents.

Eric lifted out the first item with a look of disgust on his face. It was immediately recognizable as human hair, its golden colour closely matching his. As he held it up it was clear that it was a wig. Moreover the style and length was intended to resemble Eric's own, so that anyone wearing it would be mistaken for him.

He shook his head in disgust and turned to spit on the floor. "If he is not already dead, I swear I will kill him."

There was no doubt in my mind that this was not an idle threat.

Meanwhile I had my own horrors to face as I examined the other items that we had uncovered. Nestled amongst a pile of gold and jewelry were some very familiar items: two wedding rings, a locket, and a gold pocket watch inscribed _CAS_ with my father's date of birth. There was no doubt they were the items stolen from my parents on the night of their death, as well as the spoils of our highway robbery.

Underneath them lay an unopened letter addressed to me. Eric had been telling the truth when he said he had written. William must have used the opportunities he had whilst at my house to intercept it

I thought I would collapse on the spot, but Eric was sensitive to my distress and slipped his arms around me, enfolding me in his protection.

"How could he?" was all I could say. "How could he do such terrible deeds and seek to blame them on innocent men?"

The final item in the casket was a vial of colourless liquid. I moved to open the stopper, but Eric seized it from my hand.

"Do not touch it," he ordered. "Give it to me." Taking a kerchief from his pocket he wrapped the vial carefully and stowed it in the pocket of his jacket.

"Now my dearest, I think you should meet your new Captain."

It was with some trepidation that I allowed Eric to lead me up onto the deck where the notorious pirate known as Blackbeard was holding court. To my great surprise Lady Sophia was sitting at his side, and far from being held captive as I had anticipated, was laughing at some tale he was recounting. Indeed if anything it appeared that he was the one captivated by her.

"You see, my love, Mr. Teach is by no means the monster he is made out to be. He has even entranced my Aunt."

"Your Aunt?" I repeated, sounding quite foolish.

"Yes. I have not seen her for nearly twenty years, when I spent some of my boyhood at the court of the Duke of Bordeaux. Who could forget such a distinctive beauty?" He smiled, looking from her to me. "She is the daughter of my great-uncle Finn. He had a liaison with some village girl and got her with child. Finn and his wife brought her up as their own with their other children."

"How do you know of this?" I asked in disbelief.

"From conversations I overheard as a child. I am not even sure that she knows the truth."

Could there be any further shocks in store for me? No wonder people said we could be mother and daughter. Perhaps this explained the affinity I felt for her, despite our very different backgrounds.

She had mentioned her mother only once or twice in our conversations together. I remembered that she described her as being distant and unkind. The reason for that was now clear. The lady had been expected to bring up another woman's child as her own. Who would not struggle with such a burden?

Should I be the one to reveal the truth to her? Would she hate me for it? I would be very sorry to lose her friendship. However, I remembered my promise to my grandmother and the ring she had left me. Truly this was a dilemma.

I would make my decision later, for now the closeness of my lover was making it hard to form sensible thought. He had one arm slung around my shoulders in a gesture of possession.

I noticed Franklin staring at us with undisguised hatred in his eyes. I returned his gaze with the most furious scowl I could manage.

Eric laughed at that. "You needn't worry about that pathetic creature. He signed on to serve on the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ when England grew too hot for him. He will be hanged several times over if he ever returns to Plymouth." With that he kissed my hair and whispered that he had to attend to some business.

Lady Sophia motioned to me to take a seat at her side. "We have been promised safe passage to the harbor at Bridgetown, my dear," she assured me. "We should reach our destination within the next two days, God willing."

"Eric Northman will accompany you to the shore," the Captain added. "I shall be sorry to see him go, but I suspect that he will find the attractions of island life a stronger pull than those of a life at sea."

Eric reappeared as if summoned by the mention of his own name. He was carrying something with him. I couldn't help but scream as he held up a dead rat by its tail.

"I gave this creature just one drop from the vial we found in your husband's casket," he explained. "It was seized by fits and convulsions for fully thirty minutes before death."

I stared at him. For several minutes it seemed I was quite unable to comprehend what he had just told me. Finally, all the terrible events of the last few months fell into place.

"I don't believe you. He could not be so wicked."

"I am afraid that he could, my love. It is clear that he poisoned his mother and your grandmother. It was part of his plan to force you to marry him."

An awful thought occurred to me. "Do you think he also poisoned his first wife?"

"It seems quite likely. She was perhaps his first victim, and he did not use sufficient poison. I am sure he did not intend the child to die, but it gave him the perfect excuse to stage her suicide."

I was almost sick on the spot at the thought that I had allowed such a monster to be intimate with me, however unwillingly. It was several minutes longer before I felt well enough to rejoin the company.

Mr. Teach provided us with a very fine supper. I felt a twinge of guilt when I discovered that it had been intended for the Admiral of the French Atlantic fleet, but Eric reminded me that the French were currently our enemies, therefore we were entitled to the spoils of war.

He became increasingly restless during the meal, and he eventually leant in close to whisper in my ear. "I have been waiting too long to be alone with you." Then more loudly for the benefit of the whole company: "Would you accompany me to my cabin, my lady?" He bowed low with a show of politeness.

I had not anticipated the reluctance I felt as we entered his cabin. It was clear that he was a favoured guest on the ship as he had been given a fine room with leaded windows and a large wooden bed. My joy at the prospect of experiencing the joy of his passion was tempered with apprehension. I had been so ill-used by my husband that I wondered if I could ever truly enjoy the act of love again.

"You have grown quite plump, my lover," Eric said as he caressed my breasts. It was true; under Lady Sophia's care I had filled out so much that my dresses would have to be let out before long.

"I love it," he whispered, between soft kisses as he slipped the dress off my shoulders and followed its course with his mouth.

The gentleness of his touch brought tears to my eyes. I wished more than anything that we were back in our moorland shelter where our love had been so true and uncomplicated. Eric must have sensed my distress as he held me away from him so he could study my face.

"What did he do to you?" he gently asked.

I couldn't bring myself to speak and turned my head away, the humiliation showing on my face.

"You should not be ashamed. The ignominy lies entirely with that brute Compton."

As my dress fell to the floor, he gasped at the ugly red weals on my legs.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked. "I should have insisted that we were married before I left you. I should have insisted that my family give you protection. I was a fool."

If I had ever doubted his love before, those doubts had now ended. The sincerity of his declaration was so transparent and moving that I could almost forget the pain I had so recently suffered.

Almost, but not quite, it seemed. My whole body felt as taut as a whip as I lay down on the bed. Eric had stripped off his own clothes and now lay beside me, propped up on one elbow. He was as magnificent a sight as ever, but all his masculine glory could not overcome the tension and fear within me.

He stroked his fingers lazily around my stomach, and up to my breasts. Then his lips and tongue followed their path, with those sensuous attentions that had once been so pleasing to me.

"What is wrong, my lover?" he asked, lifting his head to look at me, his gaze full of concern.

"I am sorry. It's just….." I could not finish the sentence. I did not have the words to explain how William's brutality had so desecrated the act of love that I could find no pleasure in it.

"There is no need to worry," Eric assured me. "Just let me hold you. I promise I will make you forget every terrible crime that monster visited on you."

I buried my face in his neck, letting my tears flow freely. Whether they were tears of pain or tears of joy I could not rightly tell.

_**So there you have it. Everyone who accused William Compton of all manner of terrible crimes is proved right – murder, wrecker, highway robber, peeping tom and worst of all false accuser of Eric. It's a dreadful burden for one man to bear, but I'm sure 'Saint Bill' will cope. Now all that remains is to find out whether Suki and Eric can find their happy ever after when they reach Barbados.**_

_**One reviewer did question what Bill's motive was in organizing the robbery on the moor – it's a good question. There are two possibilities. Firstly that he did not realize who the victims were, or if he did, it was too late to back down. A more devious possibility was that he hoped that Grandmamma might perish in the cold, and he could step in and rescue Susanna.**_

Thanks as always to VampLover1 and to Charlaine Harris. Also to 384soa for suggesting an additional plot twist which wasn't in the original version – I'm never too proud to pinch ideas from reviewers!


	10. Chapter 10

_**The intervention of the notorious Pirate Blackbeard has reunited Susanna with her lover Eric Northman, and they are now en route to the island of Barbados. Her brutal husband has been cast adrift to an unknown fate. **_

The _Queen Anne's Revenge_ was brought into a secluded bay on the south of the island. Lady Sophia, Eric, and I were lowered into a rowing boat with our possessions. To my great relief the sea was calm as Lady Sophia had insisted on bringing all of her travel chests, and I was sure they would have sunk our little vessel if there had been a swell.

Eric rowed us along the coast, keeping just far enough from the shore to be safe. We saw the outline of a fort on the hill before a harbour came into view.

It seemed so small and ramshackle, compared with the city of Plymouth. This anchorage was nothing but a collection of wooden buildings lining a riverbank. Some were but a single-story high. Others had an upper floor, and a few even boasted balconies. They would be the whore-houses; at least that was Sophia's opinion.

We proceeded carefully. Eric demonstrated great skill in maneuvering us into a small mooring just out of sight of the several tall ships moored on the dockside. It would not do for the arrival of the Governor's new wife in such ignominious circumstances to become too widely known.

The hustle and bustle around us was no different to that found in any seaport. Seafarers shouted their curses, porters rolled barrels of goods up and down, rigging was unloaded and stored, and fresh supplies carried on board the ships. I had never seen such a variety of mankind. There were people of every hue: black, brown and even yellow-skinned Chinamen.

I had seen blackamoors in Plymouth, of course. It was the fashion in the grander households to have a pair of black servants as coachmen. They looked very fine, dressed up in a grand livery. Some of the ladies had a little black boy amongst their personal servants whom they would pet and dress up like a little doll. Here though were men, women and children of every age.

One of the black fellows had a horse and cart that transported the three of us and our belongings up the hill to the Garrison where the Governor's residence was located. The Governor was clearly surprised at the identity of his unexpected visitors. We were shown into an ante-chamber from where we could hear the sound of raised voices coming from a nearby room. The identity of the speaker and the reason for his anger remained a mystery, but after a few minutes the Governor himself emerged.

"My dear," he said sounding somewhat insincere, "I feared the worst. Your ship docked yesterday with its crew and remaining passengers in a fearful state. They reported that most of the ladies had been abducted by pirates."

"I can assure you that nothing untoward happened. Indeed, we were well fed and treated with respect, were we not, Mrs. Compton?"

I felt it prudent to agree with her, even though her account was not strictly true. Her husband to be would certainly not appreciate knowing how friendly she had been with the pirates.

Lady Sophia's intended was a fine-looking man. His manner as he greeted me was quite charming and he showed admirable, if misplaced, concern for the fate of my husband. There was however a great deal of suspicion when he greeted Eric.

"You are the son of Sir Godfrey Northman, I presume. I know of your father by reputation. I hope you are not intending to make trouble on our little island."

"Indeed not, sir," Eric responded with a low bow. "Miss…Mrs. Compton has engaged me as her agent and overseer. Her husband's cowardly abandonment has left her to run the Clifton Hill Plantation on her own."

"I shall be glad to see that property in safe hands. It has become most run-down since its last owner died with no heir. It sets a bad example to the other farms. However, I do believe I heard talk that you were forced to leave England in less than auspicious circumstances."

"Eric…" I interrupted, intending to defend his character. He put a hand on my arm to silence me.

"I was falsely accused of a crime, but I can assure you that I have the evidence to prove my innocence if I should be challenged."

Sir Russell laughed. "I am sure you do, but it is of no matter to me. Provided you cause no trouble here, I am sure we will all get on famously. It appears that your _employer_ and my intended are the best of friends." He laid such stress on the word employer that it was clear he knew perfectly well the nature of our true relationship.

Lady Sophia insisted that we spend our first night at the Governor's mansion. This formed part of the fortress which we had seen from the sea. In contrast with the mean dwellings on the dockside, it was a very fine red-brick house furnished just as well as any great house in England would be. My spirits rose at the thought that my own home might not be as primitive as I had envisioned.

I detected Lady Sophia's hand in our sleeping arrangements. She was careful to point out the inner door as she showed me to my room. A gentle knock revealed that it opened into the adjoining room, which was occupied by my lover.

Eric was waiting for me, wearing nothing but a red silken robe. It suited him very well, set against his golden hair and his equally golden skin.

I slipped off my linen robe as I moved to join him on the bed. My dearest wish was to be able to rediscover that uncomplicated passion we had shared in our moorland idyll. Eric was tenderness personified. His kisses and caresses could not have been more gentle but something in me held back.

"I am afraid I can no longer give you satisfaction," I whispered sadly. "You have no tie to me; you can find yourself another woman."

"What nonsense is that," he retorted, his voice firm. "The one thing I know most surely from these few weeks apart is that I have never loved anyone as I love you. You have been brutally treated and that is in part my fault, but I fully intend to make it up to you."

I lay back on the bed and allowed him to attend to my pleasure. There was no doubt he had both lips and fingers that were quite skilled. I kept my eyes open, fearful that if I closed them I would see the image of that monster who had tricked me into marriage. Eric loved to have me watch him. He raised his eyes to meet mine as he trailed kisses down my body.

The expression on his face had the power to send shivers of delight through my whole body. For one glorious moment I thought that I could rediscover that unfettered passion we had previously shared. His mouth latched on to my breast, which was so swollen and sore that I could scarcely bear his touch.

He was immediately sensitive to my needs and caressed me gently, all the while kissing my neck and mouth. His restraint surprised me as I could feel the urgency of his own desire pressing against me.

I could no longer deny him. I pushed against him and he fell back onto the bed.

"Suki, are you sure you are ready?" he asked. "Do not think you have to please me."

"I must, it is the only way that I can forget. I know it will be painful at first, but it is what I want." With that assertion I moved to straddle him and took him inside me, slowly at first, but then with greater desperation. I wanted nothing more than to feel that sweet release which had been denied me for longer than I could bear.

With a swift movement, he turned our bodies so that he could take control. I cried his name out loud, not caring who might hear me. So close, I was so close to that golden moment, but it would not come. He reached his own completion and sank down by my side. Now it was my turn to rain kisses on him.

"I love you, I always have and I always will." Nothing mattered more to me than that he knew the strength of my feelings.

"I know," he responded simply, with a smile of great satisfaction on his face.

I slipped back into my own room just before dawn. I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I knew the room was flooded with light as the wooden shutters were opened. The sensation of waking on dry land for the first time in weeks was most pleasurable. It took a little time to become used to the absence of motion as I rose from the bed and performed my toilet. There was no sound of movement from the adjoining room. I peeped around the door and saw that Eric was absent. All that remained was a tangle of sheets on an unmade bed.

It was an unpleasant surprise, I remarked to Lady Sophia over breakfast, to find that I was still experiencing some sickness in the morning. I had thought to leave that behind me when we reached our destination.

She regarded me with a quizzical expression.

"Do you not realise that you are with child?" she asked, smiling kindly.

The last weeks had been so turbulent that I had lost all track of my monthlies. I realized now that it had been some time since I had experienced that curse of womanhood.

Lady Sophia stared at me as I burst into tears. "What is wrong, my dear? It is a woman's greatest joy to have children. How devoutly I have wished for that joy myself, but alas it is too late."

"You would surely not wish to carry the child of a monster," I retorted angrily.

"I do not believe that William Compton is the father of your child. When did you marry?" She took my hands in hers.

"Two days before we sailed from Plymouth."

"A little over four weeks then. You had no congress with him before then?"

"Of course not."

"Then there can be no doubt of it," she confirmed. "By my reckoning you must be at least two or three months gone. It will be your lover's child, and I have no doubt whom that man is."

The knowledge that I was carrying Eric's child filled me with joy. The problem remained though that our infant would be branded a bastard if it carried his name. I could see no way out of this dilemma. I would not give the child the name of a man I despised, but I could not give it the name of the man I loved.

"Perhaps I could suggest a solution. I would like to offer myself as her godmother. We could put out the story that I have made her my heiress on condition that she takes my name. I am childless as you know, and have no-one to leave my fortune to. I am family to Eric, of course. It is the perfect solution, do you not agree?"

I had to confess it was a most attractive option, but everything depended on her reaction to the truth which I now felt compelled to share with her.

"Before I agree to your proposal, I have something which I have to share with you. I hope you will not hate me for it." I reached into the small purse sewn into my skirt where I kept my few valuables and extracted the ring my grandmother had given me.

For the first time since I had met her, Lady Sophia was lost for words. A flash of concern briefly crossed her face, as she indicated to me to continue.

"Did your father ever tell you the truth about your parentage?" I began, keeping my voice gentle.

"Truth?" she repeated, her face blank of all expression.

"Your mother…" I continued.

"I often wished that she were not my mother. I could never believe that a woman could hate her own child so."

"She hated you because you were not her child. You were your father's daughter but by another woman. He had a lover before he was married. That woman was my grandmother."

Sophia clapped her hand to her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as I told her the whole story.

"So you are my niece, and the child will be my grand-niece as well as my godchild. This is truly a tangled web, but a most wonderful one." She took me into her arms and hugged and kissed me over and over.

Eric returned to the Garrison later that evening. He had ridden out to inspect the plantation house and had to report that it was in need of some restoration before it would be habitable.

"I suggest you make haste, nephew," Lady Sophia interjected. "Your Anna does not have too long before she will need a comfortable lying-in room." She reached over to stroke my stomach just to ensure that there could be no mistaking her meaning.

Eric was struck with a quite uncharacteristic silence. I swear I could read the thoughts going through his head. Who was the father? If not him, could he raise another man's child?

"There is no need for you to worry," I had to put an end to his misery. "There is no doubt the child is yours. I am now nearly three months gone."

He seized me in his arms and embraced me with such force that I had to protest.

"Then there is no time to waste. We shall ride out to your new home tomorrow and you can give instruction for the works."

Sir Russell kept a fine stable and was able to provide me with a sweet and good tempered horse. He insisted that I should treat her as my own for as long as I needed. I was indeed eager to see something of the island that was to be my new home. We soon left behind the ramshackle wooden houses which characterised the little port town. The countryside which spread before us was lush and green, with mile after mile of crops interspersed by tall trees of a kind I had never seen before.

These crops were to be the source of our income – they would produce sugar, molasses and rum, all of which were in great demand in both England and the colonies and would command a high price.

I was struck by the intense heat as we rode through the cane fields. It was quite unlike even the warmest summer day in England. The constant breeze made it tolerable, but I was very glad that Sophia had insisted on my wearing a broad hat.

"There is a special place which I must show you," Eric announced mysteriously as we rode up a wide track to a high point a few miles inland. From there it was possible to see the ocean on both sides of the island. He pointed into the far distance where I could just make out a sandy bay.

The descent to the sea was steep, and I was glad that my horse was sure-footed. Below me I could see high cliffs and jagged rocks. The crashing waves put me in mind of the coastline of my homeland.

"If you ever long for your home, we will come here. It is the nearest thing this island has to offer."

"It is a beautiful place, Eric; I know I shall love it. What is this beach called?"

"The local people have named it Bathsheba."

We dismounted our horses and sat on the rocks overlooking the sea. The place was totally desolate and isolated, the only sound coming from the ebb and flow of the tide. I felt a sense of peace I had not experienced since those days we had spent on the moor. That seemed to me now as the experiences of another person in another life.

"Can we truly be happy here?" I could scarcely believe that it was possible after all the travails I had suffered.

"Of course we can, dearest," Eric stroked a hand across my swollen belly. "You will have my child, and he will be followed by others. Eventually we will be able to declare William Compton dead, and you and I will be married. I do not care if we never return to England, as long as we are together that is all that matters to me."

We remounted our horses and followed the track along the coast and back inland. I could see a windmill and a cluster of buildings in the distance. Behind them a row of tall trees appeared to hide more buildings. Around us people worked in the fields. toiling in the hot sun.

"There it is, my dear," Eric gestured with his arm. "Your new home."

We approached along an avenue of trees. I could see even in the distance that the property was sadly neglected. There had been wooden shutters at every window but some were hanging loose and others missing altogether.

There were a few items of furniture in the house, but I had a suspicion that anything of value had been looted. I was untroubled by that thought. I had never wanted fine things and even without them the house felt warm and comfortable. It was a place to raise a family. I declared that I would have it plain, with just a pale wash on the walls and simple cotton drapes at the windows.

It took Eric very little time to make our new home habitable. We furnished it very simply. The only item he insisted on was a fine-carved wooden bed. I had no idea how he procured it, but he insisted that it was the one thing he had always promised me. It was made up with fine linens and swathed in muslin drapes as protection against the many insects with which we were destined to share our home.

I was very glad of the comfort, as Eric made love to me often, showing great ingenuity in finding ways to accommodate the changes to my body. I was surprised to find that my condition made me even more desirous of his attentions. Finally, one magical night, as the moonlight streamed through the open window and the cicadas sang loudly on the lawns outside, I experienced the true fulfilment of love once again.

It felt as if some great weight, some curse even, was lifted from my shoulders.

Lying together each evening in that great bed we would talk for hours about the events of the day.

"You have made an honest man of me," Eric grumbled. "I have never done a harder day's work in my life."

"I do not think you have anything to complain about, compared to the lot of those poor creatures bound in servitude to us," I retorted. It was a thing which made me most uncomfortable, and I was not sure I would ever become accustomed to it.

"Your workers have less to complain about than most. They seem to think you are a saint. It is 'Miss Anna' this and 'Miss Anna' that. It is said that your food rations are the most generous on the island, and the improvements you have made to their houses have caused comment even in the Governor's mansion."

"Eric, the hovels they lived in were worse than our old drover's hut. You would surely not begrudge them a little comfort; you have seen how hard they labour in the burning sun."

He had to acknowledge the point. It was true, though, that my improvements drew attention from some of the other plantation owners.

I knew there was gossip about my marital state, or lack of it. Sophia thought it most amusing to report it all back to me. Some said I was never married at all, others that I had murdered my husband in order to take Eric as my lover. It was only the protection of the Governor's wife that prevented me from becoming a social outcast.

To be quite truthful, I would not have cared one jot. I was happy in our own little world. We kept a small household comprised of only a maid, a cook and a butler. It was only through Sophia's generosity that this was possible, as until William could be declared legally dead I was unable to access his accounts. We would have no income until our first harvest came in.

The forthcoming addition to our family was a source of both delight and apprehension. The heat seemed more oppressive as my belly grew heavier. I swore I would never lie with a man again if this was the punishment which God had devised for us.

I was never more grateful for Sophia's support than when the date of my confinement approached. She insisted on staying with us and brought with her a trusted midwife. Truly, she was like a mother to me.

Every woman is warned of the pain of childbirth, but none can truly anticipate how excruciating it actually is. My labour seemed to last forever, fraught with many moments when I thought I could bear it no longer.

Sophia held one hand tightly in hers while the other stroked my hair. "Not long now," she whispered as I screamed with pain.

"Eric Northman, I hate you! I will never allow you to touch me again. This is all your fault."

The call of his name brought him rushing into the room, despite the protests of the women.

"She is my woman, and it is my child. I will be with them, propriety be damned," he scowled.

He took up a place on the other side of my bed, gently stroking my hair with his hand. The gesture was comforting.

"They say the pain is soon forgotten, my dear, just a little longer and the child will be with us."

I screwed up my face and pushed with one last great effort. I was rewarded with the sound of a soft cry as our child entered the world.

"It's a girl," the midwife beamed, holding her up for us to see. She wiped the blood off the tiny form and handed her to me to hold.

Eric was transfixed by the sight of her. "She is beautiful," he whispered, bending down to kiss my damp forehead.

"I will call her Sophia Anna," I declared. It seemed the ideal name, one which would acknowledge both her mother and godmother. "Sophia Anna Leclerq."

"Perfect," Sophia smiled. "We shall book the Church of St John for the baptism."

* * *

**Three months later**

I sit on the low balcony of our beautiful home, dandling little Sophie-Ann on my lap. She has managed to charm the entire household and I fear she will be the most indulged of children. The little tufts of blonde hair and her bright blue eyes leave no-one in any doubt as to the identity of her father.

Inside the house I can hear Sophia arguing with Cook over the supper menu. Although she fusses around me like a mother hen, I confess I am grateful to have her here for a few weeks. Her marriage to Russell is not a happy one as once again she has chosen a husband who prefers the company of men. Naturally it has not taken her long to make alternative arrangements which she will not divulge, even to me. I cannot find it in me to be shocked by her behaviour, she has become far too dear to me.

As the sun sinks low in the sky I see my lover riding up the long drive towards the house. The sun has bronzed his skin and enhanced the gold of his hair. He is more handsome than ever, if such a thing were possible. In a few hours I will once again be lying in his arms, a thought which makes me shiver with pleasure.

I find myself laughing out loud and Sophie-Ann gurgles happily in response. If only her life could always be as happy as we both are at this moment. I would not think about the one thing that cast a shadow over my contentment: the true whereabouts of my husband William Compton. Sophia had prevailed on Russell to use all of his connections, and Eric had used his much more disreputable contacts. Their efforts were in vain. There was not a trace of the little boat which had abandoned ship in such a cowardly manner, or of any of those who sailed in her. It is most un-Christian of me, but I hope he died a slow and agonising death.

Fin

_**A/N So there you are, me hearties – I hope you enjoyed the ride. As always thanks to Charlaine Harris who owns the characters; VampLover1 - no 1 beta; and everyone who has put this story on their alert or favourite list and left feedback – the reviews for this story have been just wonderful and I have learnt so much from people's comments and suggestions. Any other thoughts will be most welcome.**_

_**Historical notes**_

_I have tried to get the overall historical sense of the period for this story. I know there are a few mistakes - for example about the proper period for mourning - which people very helpfully picked up on._

_All the ships mentioned did exist, and the historical events took place but I wasn't able to fit their dates into a neat time-frame._

_Wrecking was a common practice in Devon and Cornwall in the eighteenth century. On stormy nights, the wreckers would stand on the cliffs waving their lanterns, luring the ships onto the rocks below in the belief that they were approaching a safe port. The wreckers would then descend and collect the goods which were washed up on the shore._

_Edward Teach, known as Blackbeard, was the most infamous pirate of his day, although his career lasted only a few years. He would weave live firecrackers into his beard to appear more fearsome. Not only did he create the image of the pirate copied to this day, he is probably also responsible for the way fictional pirates speak. He was born in Bristol and the influence of his west country accent can still be heard in today's fictional pirates._

_I could go on at length about the history of Barbados, but I will spare you. One point which the historian Hilary Beckles makes is that the temperate climate of the island meant that planters were more likely to bring their wives with them than to some of the other islands, and this led to a much less harsh and cruel regime for the slaves. I think Anna would be one of these kind women who wanted to improve the lives of her workers._

_Finally, apologies for making William Compton quite so beastly – I was severely provoked by the sickly 'Saint Bill' of True Blood Season 3 – a complete exaggeration of book Bill._


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